#my parents have said that ideally i will never move away. and that is so fucked up to me

[echoofawind]

Goodness I did not appreciate the former management at my apartment complex. The manager and nearly all the staff left and now we have people who aren't taking care and aren't being kind. I have lived here for years. My partner and I pay nearly $2000 USD a month to live here. It's our home. It's literally management's job to help care for our home.

Post brought to you by the memo of pending eviction notice we got because the apartment complex's system cancelled our rent auto pay. Previously, management worked hard with reminders and emails and calls to make sure no one in the complex got a late fee, let alone to this stage. When my partner went to talk to management, there was no compassion, simply, and I quote 'It's the law." And "I didn't know our system worked that way." (ITS LITERALLY YOUR JOB TO KNOW! THATS WHAT WE ARE PAYING YOU TO KNOW.) He was still courteous and even toned in his speech. I had to walk away because I was livid.

[only-luce-the-goose]

Tinge of Jealousy

A/N: Helloooo again! This is a separate part of a previous request. I'm thinking of writing for other drivers, like Ollie, Kimi, Paul, the Papaya boys, maybe the Ferrari boys. I've only written for Arthur (Ive got one for Ollie) and i was thinking of doing others, obviously after I've finished the ones I'm currently writing. lmk if anyone has any ideas!

Arthur Leclerc x reader

Warnings: little jealousy/possessiveness but not a disgusting amount, creepy men at a bar

Based off this part of a previous request:

“Or maybe something about him being a little jealous and possessive not in a grotesque sense like I had to defend her from someone in a bar or something, like her being too nice by not wanting to walk away so as not to hurt the other person even if it's bothering her (that happens to me often haha😅)”

Arthur had an amazing race weekend, consistently holding podium positions the whole time and to celebrate you both decided to go to the club. You rolled up in Arthur's car, him jogging around to the other side of the car to open the door for you and help you out. He was wearing a light button-up shirt, which accentuated his biceps nicely, with dark pants. You were wearing a dark red dress which showed off all the right places, dipping into your cleavage. You walked into the club, hand in hand.

You found the rest of the drivers and some of their friends and partners. You left Arthur with them as you went to buy drinks. You wander up to the bar, aware of the numerous sets of eyes on you as you walk. You take a seat and tell the bartender your drinks. You've just pulled out your phone to respond to a text from your parents when a figure sits next to you. Initially, you ignore him until he presses the off button on the side of your phone. You look up at him, pissed that he would touch your property. "That's better" the creepy man grumbles.

He had to have been about 6'2, maybe in his mid to late thirties. He had an unkempt, ginger beard and you could tell he was already balding. He was big, with broad shoulders, lumberjack-looking, and scary. His eyes told you things you didn't want to know. "What's a pretty young thing like you doing in a place like this? he murmured in your ear. "I'm here with friends, actually. Just, uhm, waiting for our drinks". Your hands became clammy and started shaking, you were taking shallow breaths, trying your hardest not to freak out. You have never hoped for someone else to be watching you.

"Arthur, mate. I think your girl needs saving. She looks really uncomfortable" Lando spoke to Arthur over the loud music. Arthur looked over at the bar to see you trying your hardest not to panic, however he couldn't see the man who was creeping you out. He made his way over to rescue you when he saw the size of the man. He turned around and walked back to the group. "Hey, umm, guys?" he stammered "I need your help getting Y/N away from this guy". Charles, Lando, Oscar, Carlos, Max, Esteban, Pierre, Logan, Alex, Ollie, Kimi, and Paul all looked at Arthur concerned. "What do you mean, mate?" Kimi asked.

He motioned the group over to where they could all see the man who was trying to harass you, who now had his hand on your thigh and was whispering in your ear. "As much as I was to go punch that guy in the face, I would not win" Arthur said they all gaped at the sheer size of him. Arthur started walking, the 12 drivers hot on his tail. Arthur wrapped his hands around your waist and kissed your temple, silently telling you that it was him. "That's my girlfriend you're touching, mate, and you are way too close" Arthur declared, the other drivers staying just out of sight for now. The pervert looked Arthur right in the eyes as he said "I don't see a ring, so as far as I care she is free to do whatever anyone else wants". Arthur felt you shrink into him at the man's ideals. "That is not what it means at all. I am taking my girlfriend and we are leaving"

Arthur moved to pull you up and into him, only to be stopped by the man grabbing your wrist and yanking you into him. "And how are you doing to that when I can easily bash the shit out of you" you shuddered hearing the way the creep was speaking to your boyfriend. Arthur looked the man in the eyes and said "Because I brought friends". You looked over Arthur's shoulder, noticing a dozen drivers all with their arms crossed and fire in their eyes.

The man followed your line of sight, his eyebrows raised as he backed off "fucking weirdos" he grumbled. You turned around and enveloped Arthur in a hug "holy shit that was scary, thank you so much" Arthur pecked your lips "You're welcome mon amour. You have to learn how to say no, though" he chuckled. You turned around and walked over to the still grumpy racers. "Thank you, boys, I had no idea how i was going to get out of that one" there was a range of responses consisting of "you're welcome" "anytime" and "of course" Ollie piped up saying "anything for our Y/N" which cause the other drivers to agree.

Arthur leaned down to whisper in your ear "They're wrong". You looked up at him confused, "You're my Y/N". His confession caused you to let out a laugh, "exactly baby, all yours. Let's go home now, yeah?' Arthur nodded, entwining your hands and leading you to his car.

[shadesoflsk]

BLANCA NAVIDAD

pairing: leon kennedy x fem reader.

summary: Leon never liked Christmas. Memories of him being taken away from his parents and countless missions made him a bitter man. However, he wouldn't have guessed that one day, he would be placing Christmas stockings with a wife and a little bundle of joy next to him.

warnings: Mostly fluff, dad leon, mentions of injuries, alcohol problems, Leon being an orphan, mild hurt (nothing bad I swear) so cheesy and sappy.

"to give up one's very self – to think only of others – how to bring the greatest happiness to others – that is the true meaning of Christmas."

The sounds of boxes being moved filled your living room. It’s the first week of December, and both of you have postponed the task of adorning your house with Christmas stuff until now. Between Leon’s job and your newfound activity (taking care of your 1 year old daughter) it’s been nearly impossible to find enough time to dedicate yourself to this special holiday. 

Leon had told you it was more than okay if you wanted to do it by yourself. He knew how much you love this holiday. And ever since halloween ended, you found yourself eager to buy even more stuff to fill your home with. Nonetheless, you waited for your husband. There was no way you would let this opportunity slip away.

And, as you walked into the living room carrying a box albeit Leon’s constant bickering about how you shouldn’t lift heavy things, your heart melted at the sight of Leon placing a christmas hat on you guys’ daughter, which was too big on her and partially covered her sight.

“Da-da” With the baby on his hip, Leon was once again trying to teach his daughter how to say his “name.” It all started with a simple joke about him being the favorite parent, but now it has turned into a serious situation, at least for him. He wanted his daughter to master the art of speaking before Christmas. Although he has noticed that his little one barely said anything else than babbling nonsense. She was almost there, those bwaaah would turn into dada, he was sure.

She had none of that, though. As soon as Leon started talking, she laughed. As if he was telling her the funniest joke ever. Your daughter had heart eyes for both of you, but you had to admit it – she was definitely a daddy's girl. The way her eyes get so big whenever she sees Leon, and how her tiny fingers wrap around his thumb each time he's feeding her – yeah, she loves her dad.

He was an expert in fatherhood. He had no recollection of ever taking care of kids before. But, as soon as his little girl was born, the father's instincts kicked in. The way her cries filled the hospital room made him want to turn off the world for a second and give his daughter and wife a well-deserved moment of peace.

However, he never thought his life would get so lucky that he would get to experience being a dad. Ever since he was born, he was surrounded by disaster and misfortune. Having to grow up at an orphanage wasn't the most ideal place to mold a child into a perfect human being, but it seems that the little time he had spent with his parents shaped him correctly.

“Ma-ma.” You walked behind Leon and placed a hand on his other hip. Your baby instantly kicked her little feet in excitement for seeing her mom. Maybe she's a mama's girl, too.

“Hey! She was almost saying dada.” Leon feigned disappointment as you tried luring your daughter into saying mama first. This was a competition between you and Leon. Which prize will be having the satisfaction of being the “favorite parent.”

“Yeah of course. My bad.” You chuckled, voice filled with sarcasm knowing that your daughter has been the laziest of babies. Most 1 year old babies already say mama or dad. Or both. Yet this little rascal just likes existing, eating, sleeping, and exploring.

Leon saw you carrying a box and sighed in mild disappointment. You could already hear him saying “I told you not to carry heavy things.” Ever since you recovered from surgery, he has gotten even more doting. Every need of you was met by the second, and you wouldn't complain, but you're still a functional adult who can actually lift boxes.

You remember when things didn't used to be like this. In the past, you weren't instantly devoted and whipped for the man that is now teaching your daughter how to say dada. You remember how your past self leaned over the counter, you were met by an usual reek of alcohol this man had. And, with a witty and drunk smile, he said his usual line.

“Another bottle here.” It was his third one that night. Not his third glass, his third bottle. He was slowly killing his liver and himself by the way kept drowning in this deadly and burning liquid. You had never met him before, but the way his dark blue eyes sometimes shone under the dim light, you knew he once was someone important. Or at least, someone needed.

“That would be your third one tonight.” You stated matter-of-factly. However, Leon didn't miss the way you refused to move and get him his booze. 

“Look at that… Smarty knows her numbers. Aren't you so, so clever?” The disdain in his voice had reached your ears. He was never the talkative client, he just spent all of his nights at your bar and drank to his heart's content. You know you shouldn't stick your nose in someone else's business yet you couldn't bear nor allow him to basically kill himself in front of you.

“Now can you please shut up and serve me another bottle.” He groaned as the empty bottle almost fell from the counter. His heavy eyelids almost closing if it wasn't from the fact that after the words he spat, you threw a glass of water to his face.

“You don't fucking talk to me like that.” Your usual warm and easy going self was long forgotten. No matter how many hardships and problems he may have, there was no way you would let him walk all over you like that. “I don't know what fucked up things you have experienced or how many people have betrayed you. But if you have time to drown yourself in this addiction and be mad about it, you also have time to make a change.”

Those words stuck with him. He knew he was being pathetic, Chris, Rebecca, hell even Claire had told him the same thing too. But he felt even more miserable when a random bartender called him out like that. Especially when you just needed to complete your job. Why would someone care? He pays, he gets his booze, repeat. But, you at least cared, even though it was something every rational human would do.

Eventually, his daily dose of booze decreased. You witnessed the small changes in him. Going from three bottles to just one, and to finally a few glasses. You witnessed how his usual dark clothes were replaced with a somewhat more colorful attire which brought out his once dull and empty blue eyes.

His slender frame slowly took form, recovering his muscles which were more visible now. His stubble remained, though. It was like a reminder of his own age – and his now different approach in life. Wiser and more careful with his own decisions. Your words didn't completely change him, but they surely helped him to see his life in another light.

Ultimately, a new Leon set foot in your bar. He was beaten up, his navy blue shirt had some blood spots while his dark brown hair was disheveled. He smelled like sweat and gunpowder. “If you ever need a tour guide in San Francisco let me know.” He said with a charming smile as you moved around your area of work. 

“I'll keep that in mind. What can I get you?” You chuckled as you went to retrieve his order. You could already hear him say it.

“Grape juice...” 

“And your number.”

Soft whines pulled you back from your trance as your babygirl grips on Leon's shirt. She wipes her face against the fabric. The little one was starting to get fuzzy since nap time had come. 

“Oh, someone is sleepy.” He coos, bringing her closer to his chest. Leon takes off the little Christmas hat that was on her head. Immediately, the little one brings her hand to her hair. She has picked up the habit to caress her own hair when falling asleep. Before she even gets to cry, Leon rocks her to sleep. His deep voice soothes her, the gentle tunes of a Christmas song was his choice of the day.

“May your days be merry and bright and may all your christmases be white.” Leon wasn’t the best of the singers but he would sing his heart out to his daughter. It was a tradition now since Leon never had someone to sing to him. The baby calmed down at a comical rate, as if she just needed her dad’s embrace to feel safe. She was safe. As long as Leon lives, you and his miracle would have the best life ever.

“I’m almost jealous, she falls asleep so fast with you.” You set down the box, stretching your arms. This is the first box out of so many, you weren’t the biggest spender nor a shopaholic but when you married Leon, some perks came with him. Those perks included having unlimited access to his black card which you use wisely. 

Wisely was an understatement, though. Having several copies of the same gingerbread man who dances every time you press a button wasn’t the wisest decision. But you and your daughter love it so Leon has to shut up. Everything for his family.

In the past, Christmas was a simple but dreadful date. He didn’t understand the point of it. When he was a rookie cop, he at least tried to force some polite smiles and give words of affirmations to his colleagues back at the police academy. He stupidly thought that once he got to work, his life would change. But the universe had other plans for him that night in September. He spent that year’s Christmas wishing to die. The government had taken away his right to end his life. Dying wasn't an option. The girl he saved back in Raccoon City, Sherry, needed him. 

Year after year, he grew resentful, angry and bitter. He expected to spend this holiday alone until his last days of life. Having to grow old and wither away, no one to care, no one who would remember him as a human and not a machine. Not the government’s lap dog.

But somehow, he met you. He was a dick at first, he knew it. Until this day, he never understood how you could choose him.  There was no guarantee he wouldn’t go back to his addiction one day. He vowed to never do it again, and he was sure to keep his promise. However, you could never know the extent of his words. You lived –at least to Leon– uncertain of how long he would be sober. But much to his dismay (or pleasure) you gave a chance to that renewed man, to that agent who had come from a mission in San Francisco that almost got him killed.

He was content with just you. He never asked for more, scared of being too greedy, too wishful. Your presence was enough for him, your smile made all of his problems go away. Your tender words were the medicine for his broken and beaten up heart, every last bit of self hatred went away with you. There was nothing else he wanted.

Until he realized that maybe, he could have the life he had always wanted.

When you announced you were expecting, Leon couldn’t show his happiness at first. He was scared. Hell, he even had to take a deep breath before telling you something. He never had a father, well he had one but his memories are too foggy. He grew up thinking kids were a mistake and that somehow, he was a mistake, too. 

He found himself slipping into the unborn baby's room when you were asleep. Watching how both of you have decorated the space where your little one will be welcomed. His fingers grazed over the white crib, already imagining what his daughter would look like. He likes to think he looks like his own mother, a blurry memory of her blonde hair swaying with the wind. His daughter will have a better life than his. He's going to fight for it.

His eyes would travel over your body. He knew how anatomy worked but watching it before his eyes was so extraordinary. Your little miracle was safely tucked inside of your belly. He has always known you were beautiful but damn – it seems that motherhood suits you a little too well. He was grateful, really grateful. You gave him the opportunity to indulge in the normal and domestic kind of life. 

“She's already asleep.” Your sweet voice called him, bringing him back to the present. While he was reminiscing about the past, the baby had already fallen asleep. Her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she breathed softly. Her tiny fingers still gripping his shirt.

“She's so lazy.” Leon whispered, his voice filled with softness and lighthearted teasing. He gently laid her on the couch, making sure to place some pillows around her in case she moved. A welcomed and soothing silence surrounded your still not decorated room. This was the perfect opportunity to start your Christmas task.

“You know… Now you can help me put up the countless decorations we have in these boxes.” You chuckled as you placed your hand on Leon’s cheek, your thumb grazing against the growing stubble. You loved moments like this where the only thing that lingered in the air was normalcy and harmony, no missions, no worries, just a happy family. 

“I’ll help you if you promise you won’t judge my artistic side.” His lips turned into a sly smirk before he pressed soft kisses against your lips. A sweet yet sincere demonstration of love. He always worries he’s not enough. You play your role as wife and mother, so he ought to be the best husband and father he can be while also balancing his job life. No bioweapon could compare with the fear of losing his own little family because of himself.

Time seems to fly when you’re surrounded with love, Leon lives by that saying. You both decided to put up the tree first since that’s the most arduous task to complete. It takes you almost an hour between placing the ornaments in the correct place and Leon being scolded because he can’t match colors even if his life depended on it. 

“Now big boy, you gotta put the star at the top.” You crossed your arms as Leon placed the last ornament on the tree. It wasn’t the best tree, especially since Leon didn’t give any artistic advice on his side. Some colors looked rather odd combined with others, but Leon thought it was abstract.

Almost inaudible babblings made you turn around and found your baby already awake. She was playing by herself, her hands reaching for the ceiling. You had to admit it – she was sometimes an angel. She easily entertained herself and barely cried. 

You reached for her and walked toward the tree. Now her fingers tried to grab the Christmas ornaments. The colors reflecting on her blue eyes – that she got from Leon. By the way she kept babbling nonsense it almost looked like she was talking.

“Huh? Right I told your mom that too but she didn’t like the idea.” Leon acted like he understood what the little one was saying. And she also engaged in the conversation, two people against your own ideas.

For a few minutes, you focused on your daughter and how amazed she seems to be with everything. In her own world, that tree was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen.

But out of nowhere, both of you looked back at Leon who was sniffing and gently sobbing in front of the tree.

“Sorry, sorry…” He chuckled before wiping away some of the tears that continued falling without stopping. He then waved his hand dismissively, expecting you to drop the subject. Now he had two pairs of eyes intensely looking at him, yours and your baby’s.

After a short while of him trying to keep his tears of joy at bay, he eventually spoke once again.

“Thank you. For… For this.” A gentle smile formed in his face as he opened his arms. You wasted no time to welcome the hug. Now, the three of you were in front of the Christmas tree. The babbling, the sobs, and the soothing music in the background formed a domestic and warm scene. Full of love, emotions, and devotion. His thank you conveyed so much more than just merely words of gratitude. Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for believing in me, and thank you for marrying me and thank you for giving me the family I never had. He wanted to say those things, but he remained silent. He knew you would understand the meaning behind his simple thank you.

He would have never expected something like this. He had always thought he was doomed from the start. That his life would be about saving others and never being saved. But he was saved, and he will always be saved.

His daughter’s hands reached for his face, her fingers grabbing his cheeks and nose. Leon obliged, moving his face closer. Nothing out of the ordinary. Until her lips moved on her own.

“Dada!”

He will never shut up now.

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter ten:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: mentions of gaining weight, body shaming, mentions of drug use, toxic mom, body issues.

➴ word count: 2.9k

💌 from me to you: i CANNOT stress this enough: please read the story’s warnings before reading this chapter — or any of them, really. this is heavy, i did not hold back. if any of the topics in the warnings make you feel uncomfortable do NOT read! i wrote this chapter with my heart in my hands but unfortunately this is what maddie needs to grow. thank u for reading and be careful ♡

౨ৎ

2024, MAY.

SIGHTING, YOU stared at the clock on your wall, reading the time: three thirty-three in the morning.

Bella snored happily beside you, sleeping like the dead, while you have been awake for more than fifteen hours straight.

It wasn’t like you aren’t tired, no, you are. You had spent a long day on set, taking pictures in crazy locations like in the middle of one of Vancouver’s busiest avenues, and recording enough social media content for the rest of your career— only ideally, because in reality you knew that you’d have to record more the next week.

You kept recalling the things Luke told you two days ago, at Jack’s birthday dinner, and you hated every second of it. For the rest of the weekend you tried to keep the mood light and happy, but you knew Quinn wasn’t dumb and he knew something was up. He asked you a million times if there was anything he could do or if he should go after Luke and tell him to apologize for yelling at you the way he did, but you just smiled and shook your head no.

Quinn couldn’t go after Luke because you knew that if he did, Luke would tell him what really happened, and even if Quinn does like you, there was no way he wouldn’t agree with his little brother’s words.

Because you didn’t need to be a genius to realize that Luke’s right, and you do have issues with accepting love in your life. At the time Luke said it to your face, you were so angry you didn’t realize that it was the sad, unwanted truth.

All these years, you’ve been trying to feel normal, accept what people gave you and move on with it. But it had never crossed your mind that people could tell it was hard for you to accept feelings, good feelings.

You were used to people getting mad at you, you were used to mean comments on Instagram, used to harsh words coming from your parents and used to your brother’s lack of interest in you, because it was easy to understand. You weren’t someone easy to deal with, therefore this was their only way of reaching you.

But good, loving words? How could you explain someone giving you love and asking for nothing back? How could you explain the way Quinn and his parents and brothers treated you, a complete stranger that happened to be their neighbor, but they opened their doors for you nonetheless?

How could you explain the way Quinn took care of you (and Bella), making sure you had a healthy routine, eating healthy meals and sleeping enough? How could you explain the way he helped you shower after a make out session, scrubbing your body with gentle hands, drying your hair and giving you his clothes because he knew you liked them?

You couldn’t explain any of his actions and it scared you to death. How could someone be so kind to a person like you?

Hours later, you stood in your kitchen, looking at another text coming from Quinn.

After he drove you home after you both arrived from Newark, two days ago, you hadn’t seen him. You were thankful for his away games and for your busy schedule, because then he wouldn’t see you like this.

You had thought about giving it a try, and telling Quinn that you wanted to be his, you wanted to be able to call him yours. But after Luke’s words, you realized that you weren't ready for it. And you didn’t want to hurt any of them, like you have been doing unconsciously all this time.

The doorbell rang, making you snap out of it and flinch. You looked around your kitchen, listening to Bella’s loud barks and sighing. You walked to the door, ready to tell whoever it was to go to hell and close the door on their face. But—

“Mom?” the disbelief in your voice could almost be comical, if it wasn’t sad.

Your mom stood in front of your door in all her glory, high heels and slick bun making her look so elegant. She had a frown on her face, as she always did whenever she looked at you. But this time, she wasn’t frowning at you; it was at Bella.

Oh, right, you think, calling Bella’s name, Mom doesn’t like dogs.

Bella promptly listened to you, probably sensing that your mom wasn’t a fan of animals. It was their first time meeting each other and it was already bad.

“Madison,” your mom greets you, getting inside your apartment, holding a giant Givenchy shopping bag. She places it on your coffee table, analyzing your apartment with judgy eyes. “I’m here to see you, since you never invited me over, not even once, since you moved back home.”

Her tone was anything but hurt. She wasn’t aching because you had never invited her over, no. She probably just wanted to make you feel bad, and, well. She succeeded.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, patting Bella’s fluffy head, looking for some kind of support. “It must have slipped my mind.”

She scoffs, sitting on your couch with the mannerisms of a royal. “You were probably too busy with that boyfriend of yours, no?”

“Boyfriend?” you ask, confusion taking over your face. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, please, Madison, we’ve been here before,” she rolls her eyes. “I knew that getting you back in touch with that little family was a bad thing, but your father wanted to invite them that night for dinner, so what could I possibly have done to prevent it?”

“Don’t— don’t talk like that about them,” you plead, trying to sound brave. “And I’m not… I’m not dating Quinn.”

“Madison, people talk. Your name has been mentioned in websites, magazines, social media more times this month than in your entire career. Lord, even more than when you were the cover of Vogue.”

You bite your lip, not sure of what you could say. It wasn’t like you and Quinn hadn’t seen some of the comments talking about you two being a couple, but you could only think of the way he laughed at some of them.

“Okay, okay, listen to this one,” you eagerly say, adjusting your body on top of his lap, his hands holding your waist in place. “‘Quinn, can you fight?’”

Quinn frowns, making you laugh. “They really think they’d win in a fight with me?”

“Well, a girl said this, so I guess you’re in hot waters,” you smile, scrolling down the comment section, looking for more funny comments. “Oh, this one’s pure gold: ‘I had never found Quinn attractive until Madison started fucking him’.”

“Am I supposed to feel flattered?” he smiles, and you shrug.

“I think I’m supposed to feel threatened by this,” you chuckle. “The amount of women calling you hot on my Instagram comment section is alarming.”

“It’s not worse than the men in my comments talking about you,” he kisses your cheek, sounding annoyed. “It’s crazy how we haven’t even posted anything together yet people are quick to assume we’re dating.”

You smile, giving him a peck on the tip of his nose. “Welcome to my world, baby.”

“Madison!”

Your mom’s loud voice brings you back to the present, something you immediately disliked. The memories you kept of your time with Quinn were your happiest ones.

“I’m sorry,” you move around the room, sitting on one of your chairs. “What were you saying?”

“I was saying that I brought you something I want you to wear at the Fashion’s gala next month,” she nods at the bag sitting on your table, making you cringe. “I’m giving a speech, and you have to be there.”

“Will Peter be there as well? Dad?” You ask, opening the bag in front of you.

“Of course they’ll be there, they’re not like you.”

You choose to ignore what she said, not wanting to get mad at her for nothing. If she wanted to compare you to them, like she’d done your entire life, then so be it.

You opened the bag, finding a beautiful black dress inside. It looked expensive, and knowing your mother, you already knew it was. But you had to confess, it was gorgeous.

“It’s beautiful, mom,” you whisper, carefully touching the fabric. “Thank you.”

“I want you to try it on.” She says, crossing her legs.

You chuckle. “Now? It’s only for next month, mom.”

“Now, Madison.” She leaves no room for complaints, and Bella growls softly beside you.

You nod once, looking at Bella and debating whether you should let her alone with your mom or not. In the end, your dog mom instincts spoke louder and you called her to come to the bedroom with you, leaving your mom alone in the living room.

Putting the dress on had been a nightmare, even for you, who were used to wearing all types of clothes. It squeezed your boobs in a hurtful way, and it made it almost impossible for you to breathe.

“What’s taking you so long, Madison?” Your mom yells from the living room, making you sigh, trying to zip the back of the dress by yourself. “Come here!”

You rolled your eyes, tired, and walked out of your bedroom, Bella behind you like a loyal guard. Your mom immediately put her eyes on you, gasping theatrically when she saw how the dress hadn’t zipped all the way in.

“Madison. Why…” she stops herself for a second before speaking again. “Why didn’t you zip it all the way up?”

You shrug, not giving much thought to it. “It doesn’t zip up. You probably got the wrong size or something.”

“Wrong size? Madison, that is your size. You…” she gets up, slowly making her way to you. You instinctively step back, not sure of what to expect of her. “You gained weight.” She says, like you had just confessed to her about murdering several people.

You look down at your own body, her words slowly making their way to your head.

Before you started seeing Quinn, you were obsessed with your weight, and it wasn’t exactly news to anyone. But you always blamed it on your job, because you had to look good twenty-four seven, so worrying about your appearance and eating just the right amount wasn’t anything crazy.

But then, Quinn re entered your life, and suddenly calories weren’t your biggest concern. That voice that lived in your head, annotating everything you ate, was gone for most part of the day.

And you probably got sloppy. Eating pizza for dinner, fast food whenever you or Quinn were too lazy to cook, chocolate bars everyday. And you never thought about it twice, because Quinn made you think about good things, things that weren’t related to your body.

He worshiped your body, even. Every time he got intimate with you, he’d always talk about how pretty, how gorgeous and sweet and beautiful you were. He kissed every inch of your body like he had a job to complete, and it made you feel loved. Cared. Good.

But now, as your mom stared at you and your dress with pure disgust in her face, it was like being woken up from a good dream. It was like going back to the days where she controlled everything you ate and everything you drank, weighing you everyday so she could make sure you weren’t being sloppy behind her back.

“I… I guess I did,” you mumble, wanting to get out of your own house as soon as possible. You wanted to be in Quinn’s warm, safe arms, away from all of these horrible thoughts.

“You guess you did?” Your mom scoffs. “Madison, look at yourself! You are fat!”

“I’m not fat, I’m just healthy,” You try to argue back, fighting the urge to shout. “I’ve been eating three meals a day and snacks, so that was probably it—”

“Three meals a day— are you insane?!” She raises her voice, her eyes staring down at you. “Have you weighed yourself lately?”

“No,” you whisper, feeling embarrassed by something that didn’t even make sense to you anymore.

“That’s why you look the way you look,” she starts walking around the room, hands in her head, looking more distressed than usual. “I can’t believe it. I spent your entire life trying to make sure you’d look good, you’d be perfect, you’d be just like me and look at you! Look at what you did with my work!”

“I’m not some kind of experiment, mom, I’m your daughter!” You shout back, already feeling the tears streaming down your face. “I’m your daughter. And yet you look at me and only see some distorted version of yourself, and I cannot—”

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to me, Madison,” she hisses again, pointing at you. “You’ll never be like me. I take care of myself and of what I love—”

“You don’t love anything, mom!” You yell, letting your tears fall down your face, tired of being in this family. Tired of being you. “I wish I could say you love yourself but you don’t, mom, and you made me just like you. You made me hate myself and hate everything I do, and you’re not even sorry for it!”

“Sorry for it? Madison, I made who you are today. You’re only famous because of me. Stop being ungrateful and start acting like the woman I raised you to be.”

You didn’t raise me, you wanted to tell her, you and dad were never home. You left me alone with thousands of sitters and Peter, who didn’t give a fuck about me.

“I never asked for any of this,” you run your fingers through your hair, fisting it between your fingers, harshly. “I never asked for you to plan my life for me, I never asked to be a model, or famous. All I wanted was you and dad and Peter to love me.”

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest, the fabric of her expensive dress stretching. “Oh, stop it, Madison, you’re not the little girl you think you are. You’ll not gaslight me and make me think I’m a bad mom.”

You wipe your eyes with your hands. “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“I’ll do what you want,” she straightens her head again, staring at you like you meant close to nothing to her. “If you want to be free of us so badly, then I’ll do what you want.”

“I never said—”

“You don’t need to talk to me or to your dad again, God, you don’t even have to talk to Peter if you don’t want to,” she grabs her purse from the couch, opening and looking for something. Once she found it, she placed it on the table, giving it a little push until it got closer to you. You eyed the package, not believing what you were seeing. “This is for you. Your dad talked to some people and... I don’t care if you want to be hideous and overweight, that’s on you for bringing shame to our name. But next month’s dinner is my last gala at Fashion before I retire. So I…” she closed her mouth, staring at you for a few seconds. “You need to be there. And this is me giving you a last chance of proving that you can accept my love for you.”

You lifted your head fast, staring at her with wet eyes and red nose.

“Accept… your love?” The word felt weird on your mouth, especially when you were using it in a conversation with your mom.

“Yes, Madison,” she sighs, like this whole encounter is making her exhausted. “My love for you. You think I do all of this just because I have nothing better to do?” She laughs, but you can tell it’s fake. “No, Madison. I do this because I love you, and I don’t want to see you alone and unwanted.”

This was the first time in years that you hear your mom telling you she loves you. Actually, you don’t even remember the last time she had said it, or even if she had said it before.

You didn’t know what to think. All this time, you wondered why you still did what your mom asked you to, even if you’re grown and responsible for yourself. But it all made sense now.

All this time, the only thing you’d wanted was for her to tell you that she loved you.

“No, you— you can’t just say shit like that, Luke. I know what love is.”

“I’m not saying you don’t, M, I’m just saying you don’t know how to accept it!”

“Will you…” you start, grabbing the bottle she left for you on the counter, reading the label, Phentermine. “Will it make you happy if I take these?”

She smiles, reaching out for your trembling hands for the first time in a while, her cold hands making you flinch. “Of course, Madison. And it’s only for a month. When I was your age, your grandma gave me something similar, and look at me! I’m just fine.”

You look at her hands on top of yours, holding the bottle too. Then, you look at her eyes, finally seeing what you had always wanted, something other than disgust and disappointment.

You nod, once and then twice, before taking the bottle with you, and trying to smile.

“Okay,” you whisper. “It’s only for a month, right?”

“It sure is,” she nods. “You’ll make me so proud.”

You smile through your tears, fighting back the need— want— of hugging her, knowing it was off limits.

It’s only for a month, you repeat in your head, countless times.

It’s only for a month.

taglist: @hischierswhore @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @he6rtshaker @nope-i-am-done @nngkay 🤎

[mrsjellymunson]

Say Hello To My Little Friend

Written for the @steddiemicrofic August prompt ‘plug’ | WC: 437 | Rating: M | CW: Secret crush, embarrassment, mentions of a sex toy | Tags: mishearing/misunderstanding, getting together. Mature content below the cut, MDNI.

“You’d really want one?”

“Yeah, I definitely want a plug…”

The seniors’ keggers were loud, but overhearing Steve yell that over the clamour was something Eddie never expected.

His birthday was coming up, so perhaps this year Eddie would find the ideal present, something so-very-Steve, but that also says, by the way, I like you.

Eddie spends ages scouring his favourite shops, looking for the perfect butt plug for his crush, if such a thing even exists. He settles on something in sleek black silicone, a nice size for a beginner but also functional. With rhinestones on the end, because nothing's too good for his princess.

On Steve's birthday the gang gathers in his backyard. Food is consumed and Steve gets his presents. But this year Eddie hangs back, nervous. He sidles up to Steve late in the afternoon.

“I, uh… I have something for you, but I need to give it to you… in private.”

“Ooh. Is it…?”

Eyebrows bouncing, Steve pinches his thumb and forefinger together, waggling a giant invisible blunt.

“N-no, it’s…”

Before Eddie can explain that it’s significantly more personal, there’s a sudden furore. Amongst a chorus of squeals Robin appears - with a puppy in her arms. It’s unusual-looking, with a squashed face and a passing resemblance to Winston Churchill (and Dustin’s baby photos, but nobody brings that up). Steve rushes over, grinning, petting it and asking,

“Who’s this??”

Robin replies,

“She’s for you! A birthday gift from me and your folks.”

Steve’s beside himself, cooing at the furry bundle as Robin explains to everyone about the rescue pound two towns over, and how Steve’s parents helped with the adoption from afar, delighted for Steve to have company as they’re so often away.

Eventually leaving the puppy playing with the kids, Steve follows Eddie when he retreats for a cigarette, getting him alone.

“So, where’s my present?”

“Uhh, Steve, I-”

Steve lunges for Eddie’s jacket pocket, pulling out a prettily wrapped parcel and tearing it open before Eddie can stop him.

Handling the smooth silicone, Steve’s initially aghast, then intrigued, and finally confused.

“Wait, is this because of what I said at the party? When I told Robin I wanted a Pug!”

Eddie’s mortified, heat building in his chest and spreading up his neck.

“Yeah, I know that now. Please, don’t make this worse…”

He goes to move away, but Steve grabs his jacket, stopping him. He slides his hand down to Eddie’s hip, gently squeezing.

“Y’know, I’ve actually always wanted one of these too.”

Stepping closer, he adds, voice low,

“You’re gonna have to show me how to use it, though.”

🐶

PSA: Please adopt, don’t shop. Also, neuter your pets.

Thanks so much for reading!

My masterlist

Tagging my usuals, ILY all: @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams

[anshelsgendercrisis]

hersh lived in my town for a few years. everything i've heard from everybody who knew him said that he was an incredible man. everything i've heard about his political beliefs makes him seem like one of those idealized "good jews" that so many leftists want- not the Bad Israeli Zionist Jews. i never knew him but he seemed like such a good man. and they're celebrating his death anyway.

yeah. i think that’s what’s so devastating about his death, and the death of vivian silver as well. these are jews that western leftists would laud as “one of the good ones”…. if they didn’t happen to live in israel. their work would mean something… if they didn’t happen to live in israel. they would deserve respect and humanity… if they didn’t happen to live in israel. they wouldn’t deserve to have their deaths celebrated… if they didn’t happen to live in israel. and it just makes me think of how many diaspora jews i know who could be israeli if things had turned out just slightly differently for their families after fleeing pogroms or surviving the holocaust or being ethnically cleansed from their homes. because at least in the diaspora we get the illusion of choice when it comes to whether or not we’re allowed to be human. we can “choose” to have all the right opinions, to assimilate, to placate westerners. and that might work for a while. but even the most left wing israeli antizionist who wants the state of israel to be dissolved isn’t going to be doing enough, because they’re israeli.

and yeah idk watching ppl celebrate hersh’s death really put things in perspective for me. it will never be enough. there’s always a choice a dead jew should have made to avoid being dead. shot at the tree of life synagogue? well, were you a zionist? killed in your home on a kibbutz? well, why do you live in israel? you were born there because your parents are refugees from iraq and libya? well, why didn’t you go back there? you can’t because you’ll be killed? well, why didn’t move somewhere else? your family moved you to israel when you were a child? well, you’re an adult now, why didn’t you move away? why didn’t you pack up your entire life and move away from your family to a strange country where you might not be safe and don’t have a support system? why didn’t you just work more so you had the money to move? why didn’t you just choose to go to college in another country? why does it matter how other countries treat jews? why does it matter that there are places who literally won’t let you into the country if you have an israeli passport or even if you have an israeli stamp on your passport? there will never be an answer that makes them happy. the only thing that will make them happy is your death.

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Silent Cosmos (Edward Cullen)(Ch. 1)

Pairing: Edward Cullen x GN! Mute!Reader

Words: 3.0k+

Warning(s): Mentions of past car accident, mentions of minor character death/parents dying, swearing, implications of past bullying, mentions of high school lacking services, blood mention.

A/N: YAY i finally have this done. I’ve had this idea since before i started grad school and finally got it done! I hope yall enjoy :) This series takes place before Victoria’s army comes to Forks and Edward may be OOC but like, oh well.

Also in this series, Bella and Edward had a mutual break up w/ no hard feelings <3

Series Masterlist

---

"On foot

I had to cross the solar system

before I found the first thread of my red dress.

I sense myself already.

Somewhere in space hangs my heart,

shaking in the void, from it stream sparks

into other intemperate hearts."

--Edith Södergran, 'On Foot I Had to Cross the Solar System'

On one unfortunate night when you were seven, a drunk driver hit your parents car. Your mother on the passenger side died instantly, your father later succumbed to his injuries in the hospital. You were injured severely, but the doctors managed to keep you alive... At the cost of your voice. Chunks of glass tore through and stabbed your neck; the damage to your larynx was the worst, the second was nerve damage. You could speak in a very harsh, almost whisper-like, voice but it caused an intense amount of pain. You were upset. You hated that driver for what they took from you.

Your aunt and uncle took you in, and were able to help you adjust as you grew. They learned and taught you sign language, they helped you cope with the loss of your parents as best they could, and were always supportive. Despite their work lives keeping them away, they always tried their best to give you attention when they had the free time.

You found ways to enjoy life again, particularly in the stars. They were almost comforting to you when you were alone, looking out your bedroom window. You weren't sure why you have such an affinity for space and what it holds. Maybe because your father brought you out at night to point out all the constellations and their stories. Those moments with him started your interest. And now, you believed your parents were amongst the many stars in the vast universe.

You grew content with not having a voice. You adapted and overcame the curveball life sent your way. You just wished the pain wasn't constantly lingering.

---

It was the day you started going to your new highschool in Forks. It wasn't ideal transferring to a different school, but your uncle's job called for it. He was a firefighter and he was offered a sizable pay increase and rank promotion to fire captain if he took up the position for the Forks station. Your aunt, a nurse, was able to transfer to Forks hospital. They discussed the idea of moving with you of course, and you not wanting to hinder your uncle's promotion or damper his excitement, you supported the move from California to Washington.

You could already tell this rinky dink school wouldn't have anyone that understands ASL and the school said they are still looking to hire someone to be an interpreter of sorts, so you were mentally preparing yourself for the mess you may be entering. At least you transferred only three weeks into the new school year, that would make any school work you needed to catch up on relatively easy. It also helped it was your senior year as well.

As soon as you got out of your car, all of the heads of the student body snapped in your direction. You guess they've never seen a new kid before. You make your journey towards the building, hoping that no one would bother to talk to you. You already saw a teen walk up to you, he had straight black hair and a toothy grin.

"Hi, I'm Eric. You're the new kid." He seemed friendly.

You offer a little wave and sign, hoping he would get the inclination you could not speak.

"Shit... I don't know sign except..." He gave you the sign sorry before pointing to his ears and back to you. You shook your head and tapped your throat. "Oh! You can't speak." You nodded. "Sorry about all the confusion. Welcome to Forks High, home of the Spartans. I'm pretty much the eyes and ears."

You simply nod along when necessary and smiled as he gave you the very quick run down of most of the immediate gossip of school, which was centered around you, the new kid. He seemed like a nice guy but glancing at the clock you passed by in the hall you knew it was close to your first class.

"And don't get me started on the Cul-What?" You interrupted him as you held out your schedule to him, pointing to your first class. "Oh yeah, guess class is starting soon. Lets see... you're in 103 for English with Mr. Baker which is..." He glanced up. "Right down the hall. I have History right next door."

You smile at his help and follow him through the sea of students.

You wave Eric goodbye and enter classroom 103. You felt eyes of everyone land on you, but none more eye-catching or captivating as the gold pair near the back of the classroom. His gaze was intense, eyes wide, as he stared at you. You held his gaze. You weren't sure what to think at the moment but before anything could come to mind, an older gentleman walked in and stole your attention. You assumed correctly this was Mr. Baker.

---

Edward was the first to arrive for his first period class. He was always punctual, but there was a difference now. He no longer had Bella in tow.

It was a mutual end to their quick relationship. While her blood did appeal to him greatly, the fastness of their relationship hurt them both emotionally at the end. It was purely fascination of each others beings that they mistake as something else. While it did hurt, Edward could admit to himself he wasn't distraught over it. They remained friends and he was content with that.

Slowly, other students began filling the classroom as the clock ticked on. Everyone filling seats they usually sat in despite there being no assigned seating. No one ever sat next to him, often feeling intimidated by his status as a Cullen. The vampire paid them no mind, occupying his attention to watching the typical Forks rain traverse down the window he always sat by. He tuned out everyone's thoughts the best he could, letting his usual melancholy about his nature linger in his mind.

Edward perked up when he heard an fast-beating heart breakthrough his attempts of zoning out. Shifting his focus to the doorway his eyes latched on to the new student.

You.

It didn't take reading thoughts to feel the buzz of a new student arriving in the small school.

He felt... strange. Much like with Bella, your scent invaded his senses and made him thirsty, yet, that wasn't what caught his immediate attention.

It was the eyes. Something about them captivated Edward. He wasn't sure what about them had him staring at you, who now stared back at him. The vampire attempted to discern your thoughts and he caught an inkling of curiosity starting to bleed out before the teacher took your attention away.  His stayed on you, and didn't pay him any mind or had any idea he wad, and focused his enhanced hearing on the conversation.

"Hello, new student?" The teacher greeted and softly spoke your name. The auburn haired male watched as the you nodded.

Edward's curiosity peaked when he finally heard their thoughts, clear as the days outside of Forks.

"Yes, that's me. Do you know sign?" He heard their thoughts as he watched their hands easily relay in sign language. I'm expecting a no they internally sighed.

"Oh shoot I wasn't told..." A worried look passed on the teachers face as his sentence trailed off. Edward can hear his thoughts complain that the school failed to inform him about the new student outside their name and grade. A look of exasperation briefly flashed on your face.

Who would of fucking thought Forks High, a small-ass school, would not inform their teachers. Fantastic. Wonderful. I love it. It was a pointed statement that had Edward both mildly shocked at the language and pretty amused. I wonder how much others outside of Eric will put up with me here.

Edward sighed. He knew he shouldn't involve himself with another human but he couldn't help it. Whatever captivated him and the resignation you mentally expressed already had moved him. He got up from his spot and quickly moved to the front of the classroom.

"Apologies, I don't mean to cut in but I know sign."

---

You blink at the golden-eyed student he approached you and the teacher. You felt a grateful smile tug on your lips as you faced him. Immediately, you felt some appreciation and felt good about being wrong on your previous assumption.

"Thank you, Edward." Mr. Baker smiled in relief. Edward gave the teacher a small, tight lipped smile at him and faced you. The teacher introduced you to him. "And this is Edward Cullen."

"I'm sorry for any inconvenience." Edward spoke as you signed, his voice soft and velvety. Observing his face, you watched as his brows furrow at your statement, which became almost a second nature for you due to the way your previous school treated you. You often faced irritated glances or your existence ignored entirely outside the feo close friends you accumulated.

"Please relay to them-" Mr. Baker spoke but you immediately shook your head and held up a hand.

"I am neither deaf or hard of hearing, sir. I just can't speak." Edward translated for you again. "I look forward to class with you both." A smile appeared on his face again.

"You too. And you aren't being an inconvenience at all. It's the fault of the school, really." Mr. Baker offered a kind smile. Edward left the two of you, as if knew he wouldn't be needed again. "Take a seat wherever you want, I don't do assigned seating unless it becomes an issue." Mr. Baker gave you a kind smile and gestured for you to pick out a seat, while he moved to the classroom computer. You take a glance around, only seeing three spots open.

Your eyes landed on the one next to Edward, causing you to perk up. Though, you hesitated, his small smile and the single, subtle nod assured you it was fine to sit by him. Holding your backpack strap a little tighter, you move between desks to join him.

---

Edward watched as you sat next to him. You offered him a quick smile before you started pulling out your notebook and your small pencil case. You didn't look over at him as you stared up at the board, waiting for class to start.

The vampire was curious and while he knew it was an invasion of privacy, he couldn't help but try and focus in on more of your thoughts. Except he was met with...

What? His brows furrowed. Edward felt overwhelmed for a moment, his sense felt almost deprived as he tried peering in your mind again.

Edward suddenly saw what he perceived as a galaxy. Stars, planets, moons, a sun... it was vast and it was breathtaking. It wasn't something he never saw before, this detailed, in a humans mind. He was able to view this scene for just a few fleeting moments until he suddenly felt warm energy push against his mind.

The vampire blinked. His presence was back in classroom 103. He glanced toward you. Paying close attention, he didn't see anything that indicated you were in any way aware of what just occured. He heard the teacher swear under his breath as he attempted to get the projector working, and used this moment to speak with you.

Softly, he called your name, bringing your attention to him.

"How are you liking Forks?" Edward recognized he was a bit awkward, but you gave no inclination that you minded or judged him.

"It's wet. But I don't mind it. The scenery is nice." You signed and it was as if the cosmos that warded him from your thoughts was lifted. Hearing your thoughts again after being blocked out by the cosmos left him perplexed and curious.

"Forks does have its charm in scenery." He chuckled. "But I assume that isn't why you moved?"

"No, but it definitely is a bonus." You smiled. "My uncle got a promotion so we moved up from California."

"What does he do?"

"He is now the fire captain here."

Edward had a kind smile and offered a small congratulations to him. He then spoke again, "What does your class schedule look like?"

You reached into your zip up hoodie pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper. Unfolding it, you slid it to his desk. His golden eyes scanned the paper and he felt some sort of happiness that your schedules almost align completely. The only class difference was your last two classes, which would have you taking gym and history without him.

"Looks like we will be seeing each other a lot. We have almost all the same classes."

That's a relief. Edward suppressed a smile at your thoughts. I hope we can be at least friendly with one another.

"Since we have most of our classes together, would you like to be friends?" He asked. He could already hear Rosalie scolding him for getting involved with another human, but he didn't particularly care what she would think.

You were another anomaly to his, otherwise, stationary life. He has no plans to try and initiate a quick romantic relationship again. He simply was curious to the stars that lingered behind your eyes.

---

It was nearing lunchtime. You glanced out the window of your math class while the teacher closed out her lesson and began explaining what the homework was going to be. You were very grateful for Edward sticking by you in each course. He was able to help you talk to your teachers, answer and ask questions, and made Forks high a little more welcoming.

You had met two of his siblings in that time frame, Emmett and Alice, who were both a delight. Alice already expressed how much she was excited to finally get to know you, which you assumed she was wanting to meet the new kid, and Emmett offered to watch your back in gym with the biggest grin you've seen on a persons face. It also warmed your heart to find they also knew sign too.

The initial worry of being a forever outsider like before began melting away. So far things have been pleasant unlike your last experience.

As you mind wandered off to old school memories of bullies and loneliness, you were still unaware of Edward trying to discern your thoughts again. You missed the look of confusion and frustration on his face. Although, you did manage to hear him make a noise that sounded like frustration, which snapped your attention on him.

"Everything okay?" You ask him. He glanced up at the teacher who was now facing the board writing the homework down.

"Just... wanting class to be over." Edward gave you a tight lipped smile. "Mrs. Johnsons' classes are usually a bore."

You nodded with a smile and silent chuckle.

The class bell rang, signaling an end, and practically everyone ran out for lunch. You eyed the crowd trying to leave and shrug your shoulders. You scribbled down the equations Mrs. Johnson assigned before putting your class materials away and preemptively pulled out your brown bag lunch.

You glanced to Edward while you both stood up. You weren't sure if you should continue sticking by his side until it was time for your last two periods or find your own corner to decompress. Perhaps giving him a break from-

"Are you ready?" His soft voice cut through your thoughts. You blink, pausing for a moment, before nodding.

"Lead the way." You smiled, though you were sure it came off as nervous. There will be so many people...

"Would you like to sit with my family and I, or would you like to go somewhere quiet?" You looked at him a bit shocked, were you that easy to read? You could see the twitch of his lip like he was going to respond but he kept quiet.

"Somewhere quiet, just for today."

"Follow me then."

---

Rosalie sighed as she leaned against the table, waiting for her siblings to join her and Emmett for lunch. She then looked to her partner and leaned against him, who laughed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Her golden eyes followed Bella's form with a glare as she sat down with her friends.

"Come on, babe. Her and Edward have no hard feelings." Emmett spoke in a quiet tone.

"It's still a danger to us." She grumbled.

"Nope! She still becomes a vampire like us." Alice suddenly sat down with a bright smile.  Jasper was quick to sit down next to her.

"Even after what happened with the Volturi and James?" Emmett asked.

"Yep. While the course of her and Edward's relationship definitely changed, she still becomes a part of our clan."

"Great." Rosalie rolled her eyes and then glanced around at the table. "Speaking of Edward, where is he?"

"Probably off with the new kid." Emmett smirked. "They seem pretty nice. Edward's been helping them since they can't speak."

"Another human?" She looked to her partner then to Alice. "Did you..."

"Have a vision of them? Yes. The day before Edward and Bella parted their romantic relationship, I had a vision of them coming to Forks. And then after meeting them, I saw them and Edward, looking pretty close." She smiled and giggled.

"Great, another human who is going to choose to be a vampire." Rose scoffed.

"Rosalie-" Alice's usually bright expression drops. Everyone at the Cullen table looked at her with worry as it appeared her eyes glaze over. Jasper immediately gripped her hand under the table as he could feel a wave of sadness wash over from her.

"Darling?" Jasper whispered.

Alice blinked rapidly. She looked to the others with a worried expression. "I... I didn't see the specifics but... It wasn't their choice."

It was silent between them. Rosalie's eyes were wide, Emmett clenched his fist under the table, Jasper tried his best to calm everyone, and Alice simply blinked and tried looking to the future again.

She could see you, crying and writhing as the venom from a bite on your arm took hold, blood all over you. Edward and Carlisle were right by your side, speaking. But she couldn't hear what they were saying.

All she heard was a high pitched ring.

And then the vision flashes a blinding white and she swears she could feel intense heat against her face.

She was back at the table again with her family. It was the same vision as before. Never had she seen such a bright light, heard such a noise, or felt anything like that from a vision.

"We have to talk to Carlisle."

[swallowerofdharma]

Yashiro’s Cruel God part one

Disclaimer: this post contains a detailed and straightforward analysis of chapter 25. Doumeki isn’t the villain, if you were worried about that. Actually I must apologize because I wanted to talk about him too, but as usual I started this meta with Yashiro and got carried away. This is also why I am dividing it in parts to avoid having a very very long post. So other parts will hopefully follow to fully elaborate the premise I made. Thank you for understanding. And please take care of your wellbeing, if mentioning Yashiro’s stepfather upset you, maybe skip this one.

Premise: not a matter of perfection but of balance

This person I followed reblogged the Declarations of healthy adulthood by David Richo in big big font and - having only one thought on my mind apparently - I read all that text in Yashiro’s POV. I actually don’t think that this is a perfect model or anything, and I am generally skeptical of self help books (I only assume this is something like it), but why not use this as an example, while considering something that I find interesting about Yashiro and Doumeki? During the discussion about the latest chapter, I said something along the lines of Doumeki representing young love, while Yashiro’s approach has been more mature, and I meant it thinking about Yashiro being aware and cautious about hurting others [and being intentional when he does, since he put a bullet in Doumeki’s leg] and being quite self reliant, and yes I know that he is also afraid of being hurt/loved! in previous posts here, I have mentioned that Yashiro’s acceptance of his past is only-in-part denial or downplaying of trauma, because it has been also a strategy and an impressive sign of his maturity and determination to live in the present. Isn’t it exceptional that Yashiro doesn’t seem all that resentful of his parents? That he openly says that he doesn’t blame others? We have to confront his words always mindful of the fact that he usually is an unreliable narrator, but in many instances he says the truth or half truths and his demeanor confirmed that he did some of what David Richo proposes: I accept full responsibility for the shape my life has taken; I accept that I may never feel I am receiving - or have received - all the attention I seek; One by one, I drop every expectation of people and things; I let go of blame, regret, vengeance, and the infantile desire to punish those who hurt or reject me; No one can or needs to bail me out. I am not entitled to be taken care of by anyone or anything, I let go of control without losing control.

I thought that it was very interesting to consider the Yashiro/Doumeki dynamics from different angles, like older/younger, or even realist/romantic, for example. The point of this experiment isn’t to make a comparison of merit nor to talk about a character in better light than another. Maybe those differences need to be confronted or balanced: for example the realist maybe needs some of the romantic’s idealism to soar and not be stuck on the ground. Yoneda-san might be onto something so human and amazing here. An important clarification is due before saying anything else. As characters that are written as full human beings, with their complexity and contradictions, Yashiro and Doumeki can’t be put neatly into the opposite categories I proposed. The story is much more dynamic, so I ask you to take a further step and put those opposites at the ends of a spectrum and to move our characters freely in both directions. Yashiro tends toward being effectively the older and more realistic one but he has traits that make him move down towards the other end too, even to the extreme of being childish. Consider for example these other statements, from the Declarations of healthy adulthood: I need never fear my own truth, powers, fantasies wishes, thoughts, sexuality, dreams, or ghosts; When change and growth scare me, I still choose them. I may act with fear, but never because of it; I am still safe when I cease following the rules my parents (or others) set for me; If people knew me as I really am, they would love me for being human like them. These points clearly demonstrate Yashiro’s unresolved problems, where he is stuck if you want, and why probably nobody believed me when I pointed at him as being mature (eh, he has his moments tho, you can’t deny that).

I challenge everyone to consider that those four points in particular are quite challenging for most people in general, but particularly so for someone who has fear/betrayal as the foundational principle in their childhood instead of a normal amount even a scarse amount of parental love/safety. And I want to underline childhood here, not teenage years or later.

I need never fear my own truth, powers, fantasies wishes, thoughts, sexuality, dreams, or ghosts. Yashiro here is a mix of contradictions, because he outwardly seems to own those things, even making them a point of his persona, but most of those things are based on the lies he told himself, or his stepfather told him: see this other point

I am still safe when I cease following the rules my parents (or others) set for me. Isn’t this statement extremely helpful to understand Yashiro’s situation? To feel safe he had to build his personality according to the rules of the one who had all the power over him and had already taken away any sense of security from him. This is probably one of those things that can be hard to understand when you have never been there. Most notably, not only in the manga this has been pointed out, but it has been pointed out by Yashiro himself. He is self conscious of this, he knows that he lied to himself as a child, that he had to, and he is constantly choosing to continue lying because that is still the only foundation he has. There was no familial love, no other relative safety. Letting go of the lies actually means going to pieces and breaking down.

This isn’t different from what happens to people who are tortured. Yashiro’s father completely took away any sense of security and safety. The aggravating circumstances were that Yashiro as a child didn’t have any other point of reference or knowledge to understand what was happening with his body and in that state of mind what his father told him had to be the only truth possible. Parents who abuse their children most often don’t even realize what they are doing to its full extent. That’s the immense cruelty of these types of situations. The rules are lies, but the lies are rules to follow to be safe:

You like it when it hurts, right? If it doesn’t hurt, I can’t get into it.

What happened in chapter 25: why now?

Yashiro didn’t want to have sex with Doumeki and said so repeatedly. Doumeki has grown on him, behind liking his physical appearance or using him as a substitute for Kageyama: Yashiro truly liked this person and he liked that Doumeki was impotent. Thanks to that, Yashiro grew comfortable around Doumeki and with comfort and safety comes familiarity. When Yashiro discovered that the impotence was gone, he was angry and terrified. They had become too close and now the premise has changed and Yashiro couldn’t trust Doumeki or himself anymore. I won’t analyze here the scene in the shower but I’ll skip to the point. Doumeki only understood that his love was required, that he was wanted and stopped thinking. He acted passionately like any young person who had a normal foundation in love would. He didn’t understand anything that Yashiro asked or why there were mixed signals and what it all meant. He pushed and hurt and broke without being aware of what he was doing.

And Yashiro was trapped in a situation he had tried to escape from his all life: with a person who felt familiar, a person he loved and relied on, in the safety of a home, who wanted sex and was going to do what he wanted regardless of what Yashiro had to say. Yashiro desperately tried to control what was happening through usual patterns, making it hurt, asking Doumeki to do from behind, detaching the sex from his emotions, but he couldn’t and for the first time in his life sex was different from what he knew, because while Yashiro had loved his stepfather, his father didn’t love him and he didn’t treat him like Doumeki did. And every lies built around his father’s abuse came to the surface. Including the fact that his father never loved him. Doumeki broke him indeed because he broke through the lies/rules upon which Yashiro had intentionally built his entire personality/safety. And he wasn’t ready for it, he specifically said he didn’t want it, he had known all along, he already knew when men before Doumeki tried to make love to him and when he built a strategy to specifically avoid being confronted with those lies/rules. He didn’t love those men. He did love Doumeki though. But once again Yashiro didn’t have a choice. And he was physically hurt and recovering after being shot and knowing his life was in danger outside of that room. He had just discovered that Doumeki lied about being impotent the previous time he touched him in the car and before that. It was probably the worst timing possible for making love. At some point Yashiro grew resigned and even reciprocated a little, reaching for Doumeki, caressing his face, and he even reassured him before he fell asleep. There were words that Doumeki said that Yoneda didn’t disclose fully, choosing instead to immediately took us in the flashback with Yashiro. I think it is probable that what Doumeki said was something that Yashiro’s father had said and that we are going to confront before the end of the manga. I personally want to know these words more than what Yashiro said while an airplane passed by and Doumeki was unconscious. Morbid maybe on my part.

I have stated that I am not going to make Doumeki a villain here. The point of this analysis is just to see where Doumeki was in terms of maturity. To be continued…

[garricks4thwingqueen]

My Little One (I'll Do Anything For You) Garrick Tavis X OC

This is an idea that I'm grabbing from one of my dreams. Garrick girls well be feed well from me. He has a chock hold on my heart.

Synopsis: It was never easy being Amber Melgren the daughter of none other than the General Melgren himself. Amber was about to start her first year at Basgiath War College and she knew this wasn't going to be an easy thing to do with her last name and having to eventually face her ex who she hadn't seen since he started last year. Her ex was also her father's ideal match for Amber. Amber was used to these high standards from her father but started to feel more rebellious as she got older especially after losing her family member, she had the most love from at the age of 13, (which was her mother.) One of her father's strictest rules given to Amber before she had to start her first year had reminded her what he told her several years ago which was to not fall in love with any of those rebellion children.

Fic is still in the works!

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of parent death, swearing, hinted at smut.

Word Count: 917

Part 1:

I stood alone in the training room flicking dagger after dagger at the target on the wall. I kept missing everyone of my targets even though I knew I could hit it spot on, after all I spent my whole life training to be a dragon rider, I mean what else are you expected to do when your general Melgren’s daughter? It was now September and my ex had barely said a word to me since I started my first year at Basgiath this past July. Dain had started  a year ahead of me. We were dating for almost a year before he started, however he broke up with me the night before he had to cross the parapet. He's been breathing down Violet's neck and his avoiding me honestly didn't even bother me until he spoke up in sparring when my squad leader volunteered to spare me when my assigned partner ended up being sick. Garrick knew what I was capable of, Dain apparently not so much. I didn't even notice the door to the training room open until I felt a hand on my waist and one on my wrist. “A little more flick of the wrist and then you’ll have your target.” Garrick Tavis breathed softly behind me, flicking my wrist forward. I turned once the knife hit dead center “Blasting off steam cadet? I don't think I'd want to be the face of whoever you were envisioning.” Garrick chuckled. “Dain.” I replied well aware both of Garrick's hands now rested on my waist and neither of us had made any move to step away from each other. “Dain?” Garrick questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Long story.” I sighed. “I've got time.” Garrick said motioning to the bench. “We used to date it basically approached a year almost to date the night before he started here then he called it quits the same night. Not to mention that earlier was even the first time this year that he even looked in my direction. Pretending like he still cares, even though he's basically been shoved up Violet's ass since we started this year. I felt Garrick’s calloused hand reach up and cup my face. “You deserve better then him anyways.” He said his finger was now softly rubbing my cheek. “Gare.” I sighed quietly before our lips slightly brushed each other, before it became deeper & more intimate as Garrick now pulled me on his lap. “Amber”  he breathed as we stopped for air. “That was.” I started to say. “Incredible.” Garrick said softly. “Yeah.” I said with a heavy sigh, knowing how wrong this was. “My Father would flip if he ever found out about us.” I said with a quiet voice burying my face into his shoulder. “That's a risk I'm willing to take.” I started to trace his rebellion Relic that ran down the length of his arm; which was given to him and all the other rebellion children by my father's dragon Codah; when their parents committed acts of treason against Navarre. “Gare if anything ever happened to you because of me or because of my father.” I said quietly, “Look at me.” He whispered, lifting my chin up. “You're different from your father; me giving you extra training and spending extra time with you wasn't just for sparring purposes; our flirtatious banty moments were real and I think we both know I can hold my own.” He said with a smirk on his face. “Gare it's more complicated than that.” “Try me princess.” He said softly. I sighed “You really are stubborn aren't you Tavis?” “Give it all to me.” He said. Sighing and resting my head against Garrick's shoulder “It all changed after my mom died. He was never hard on training me at all as she lightened him, I was 13 when she passed due to her dragon being injured. Up until then I actually hoped I was going to end up in infantry. Training started slow and then he got stationed with Colonel Aetos and had me and Dain training almost constantly. After the rebellion surprisingly he lit up a bit, not without giving me a warning to never fall in love with any of those parents' children.

A few years passed and then he was delighted when my boyfriend who was going into the infantry and I split and then Dain and I started seeing each other. So freaking delighted he has our wedding basically planned and as far as I know he still thinks we are an item unless someone else has told him otherwise. Honestly Dain and I were both too chicken shit to mention it and he was starting here anyway so not like it mattered. I'm pretty sure he has the hots for Violet and that's why he did it and waited so he wouldn't have to deal with my father.” I paused and added “He's not one to take a beating lightly when he's upset. Upset and angered even worse.” “Dain’s a dick and I'm willing to risk it.” he said, pulling me in for another kiss. “Will take this as it goes. It's better if no one knows right away anyway, you get lash enough for your last name and then if anyone finds out you’re with me and hurts you because they think you're trying to sleep your way to safety.” He sighed, “I couldn't deal with you getting hurt because of me either, so wet for me.” He chuckled.

[no-gram]

ACT1 Deneb. Dreams, and hearts.

I don't think I was acting, I don't think I was overreacting. I was happy to be expected, and I was willing to make up for the bad things I did by doing the right thing… I was always good at reading the air. Maybe it was because I was always afraid of my parents, or maybe it was because I was always trying to be who they wanted me to be.

I've always been distorted. Maybe it was the environment. I didn't know how to have a normal happiness. I envied you for being so honest. Hey, why did you stick around?

It was raining all the time. At that time, it was painful to live up to the expectations others had for me, I didn't want to be angry with you, and I even wanted to die. But you were different. Hey, why did you hold an umbrella for me then?

I hated graduation, I hated being apart. But I didn't want to keep them apart, and the distance that separated us will not return.

”Hey, let's meet for the first time in a while.”

I had been waiting for this moment for a long time. As usual, my life is full of emptiness, and I am only making frivolous relationships to be a person, but my heart is not moving. I am sure I am laughing, but suddenly I don't know what is funny. Still, I feel like I can find something with everyone.

I was always unstable, crazy, no good, and I was a nuisance to you many times… but you accepted my vague sense of emptiness. We fought a lot, but still… You came all the way in the rain to see me when I was depressed.

Maybe what I liked about you was that, despite your own fragility, you saw the differences in people more than anyone else, were aware of the fact that people helped you, and tried to do the same for you. It was dark, but sparkling with the lights of the stores, I was happy to walk next to her, and the sunset that was about to turn into night illuminated Anta… it was so beautiful. We didn't have the same hobbies, the same way of thinking, and some things were too much for me, but…but…. You helped shape my haze a little bit.

On my own accord, we all went to the amusement park together. We all wanted to stay together until the park closed and decided to look at the stars for a little while. There was a full moon, and we could see the summer stars. Since I had a bit of an appreciation for the stars, I found the great summer triangle and told they about it.

Hey, the moon is beautiful.

You listened to me, and what you saw was Vega, the constellation Lyra.

Sitting at the fountain, I blurted out, Do you like the constellation Lyra? I asked. I was sure you didn't, but you seemed to really like Vega. I wanted to support you, if that was what made you happy.

You were unstable then. I was looking at the stars across the river and lamenting my own stupidity. I looked like my past self. I wanted to help you, so I tried to be your ideal, reproducing the lines you said to me.

'Anything that is not spiritually aspirational is a fool.'

I am a fool.”

It was good at first, but once we were out of sync, we were never in sync. The last time I saw you, you said you wanted to see us all together next time. I heard that you and Vega had met on the river. I wanted you to be happy with the first star who would save you, even if you and I could not be on the same footing.

If only I could be the swan.

Wait a hundred years, and the lilies will bloom. A writer wrote of his dream.

No matter how many years pass, I will wait. That's what I can do.

It was tough at the time. He suddenly confessed his feelings for me. It wasn't like that, so I turned it down.”

is at ？？？？？？？？？？？

He lied to me, he hid things from me, maybe rightly so, but he didn't trust me. After all that I did, didn't even trust me as a friend. It was arrogance of me to try to make you both happy. You are not God. Did you use me? But it was you who saved me. Why didn't Vega tell me that right away? Why didn't you tell me we were meeting in the first place?

I asked because I trust you more than anyone else in the world. You brutally rejected it. I will now curse you as my lifelong enemy.

I am now about to break my own heart and splash its blood on your face. I will be satisfied if, when my heart stops beating, a new life can be born in your breast.

Your name is Altair. May you not forget me for the next hundred years.

I had hoped so, but before my journey could end the way I wanted it to, the work that is me was erased by something else. I wonder how you are doing, Altair, Vega.

[smalltownduck]

it's borderline criminal (/j) that, even with how popular manifestation theory is and will's powers being suspected for years to be creation-related, no one (that i could find) seems to have written a Pygmalion (the og myth) au for byler yet.

to (hopefully) avoid some of the unfortunate implications (re: ruby sparks my beloved) of a writer making his character come to life i mean, in order to make will the guy he is now, he had to go through so much pain and trauma, or else he wouldn't be will, not even pre-canon will in said (non-UD) au, i think i'd rather go for the 'will created the initial concept for mike but as a dnd character' route.

will, lucas and dustin (he moved in kindergarden) still became friends and got into dnd, but they're not as close as the og party; will keeps his terrible home life from them to avoid more shame or their parents not letting them hang out anymore.

one day, while brainstorming to create his own dnd character, will doodled a figure in armor: someone who could be loyal, kind and adventurous, that could actually lead a party and make their campaigns cooler than any of them could imagine. Someone they could rely on. Someone who'd inspire them. Someone who would protect them. Someone that would care enough to, against any kind of danger.

that evening, after too many striked scribbles and ripped sketchbook pages, will drew his first sketch of His Paladin -no name felt right.

he never told anyone about him, not even his mom or jonathan, who'd otherwise get to see all his drawings. he never considered playing as the character either, even though he made several character alignment charts for him (if you ever had an oc, you know how it goes) and had way more sketches of him than of will the wise. that just wouldn't feel right: his paladin wasn't him or someone he wanted to (or could ever) become. his paladin was someone separate from will, with his helmet never off, tall and always vigilant, the brightest smile even in the face of failure.

again, if you ever had an oc and you used fiction as escapism, you might imagine how close will felt to his creation, especially bc only will ever knew of his existence. his paladin was there, by his side, on bad days, on loud nights; whenever will feel down, he'd picture him joining the last campaign the party borrowed from a random booklet, cracking incredibly lame jokes and reminding everyone of what they were fighting for. it was a comforting thought to turn to. a friend far away who never failed to make him smile.

no one, not even his dad, could take him away from him. if will sometimes stared too long, with a dopey smile, at his latest drawing, it was only his business. those new budding feelings, despite everything, felt safe. his paladin wasn't real, so he was not doing anything shameful nor bad by feeling so attached to him.

cue fourth grade, his dad leaving for good, castle byers, and a new boy joining his class. a chatty, very creative boy who played dnd as well. a boy who acted too familiar and looked like someone will rarely dared to visualize without a helmet on for the sake of his own sanity.

(this version of mike would be a regular human with free will in case you were wondering.)

this concept would be more about will freaking out at the idea that he created mike, realizing that's impossible [?* and trying to reconciliate what he knows about his idealized Paladin with the real mike -a boy with as many flaws as wonderful qualities.

will constantly having to remind himself they're not the same only for mike to proudly show the party his dnd character sheet along with his notes for the big epic campaign he always wanted to write -cue will excusing himself to hide both his blush and panic.

just will constantly struggling to differentiate between 'projection' and reality. trying to get rid of his feelings towards his character so he could treat the real mike fairly, get to know him, stop himself from staring too long whenever mike showed any heroic traits, and not scare him off nor get him in trouble bc of his stupid feelings.

will could now befriend an amazing boy for real and that's all that should matter. all that would ever matter.

if it takes will years to feel comfortable drawing 'sir mike', that's between him and an unassuming stash of paper in his closet he cannot bring himself to throw away (he's still scared of the possibility of making mike dissapear)

[itsclydebitches]

Does everyone know that one found family post going around that's something like, "What do you MEAN they all go their separate ways after the journey??"

That's how I feel about Ted going back to Kansas.

To be clear, I'm not arguing that it's an unlikely ending to the series. I think it's very likely, especially when I consider a lot of the cool meta people have been writing lately, but that likeliness leaves a sour taste in my mouth because what's waiting for Ted in Kansas? "Henry!" the fandom cries and yes, obviously, but that doesn't feel like enough to me (which I realize sounds like a callous statement regarding a father and son, but hear me out). The only other things Kansas has are an ex-wife, a horrifically unprofessional step-dad in the making, and a long line of comforts that Ted has outgrown. I've noticed that this season in particular Ted has been moving away from his American roots: he misses his BBQ sauce but manages to find a perfect replacement in Amsterdam, he's finding solace in paintings for temporary homesickness, he's using "football" and "maths" naturally in conversation, many of his speeches lately have been about how he once WAS this American so-and-so but has changed significantly since then. From a canonical perspective, Henry is the only thing in Kansas that's good for Ted anymore and even if we put that aside for a moment (which I don't think we should) it seems quite significant to me that Ted has spent three successful years parenting from across the pond.

Is that ideal? No, but Ted Lasso hasn't gone out of its way to paint this separation as a failure, or a crippling blow to Ted or Henry, despite them obviously missing each other a great deal at times. I'll admit that this aspect is absolutely colored by my own bias. As someone who doesn't want kids herself, I dislike the implicit message that a parent must give up everything they want/need in order to be 100% available to their child. I'm of the belief that there's a big difference between loving/raising your child and lacking a life outside of them because Every Aspect of Your Existence Must Serve Their Direct Needs Until the Magical Age of 18, so I've never jived with the "Ted is a horrible father who abandoned Henry!" takes. Not just because I think the show has made it clear that Henry doesn't feel abandoned, but because it tells viewers that parents can't have anything for themselves once they've brought a life into this world... which feels pretty shitty to me. Thus, that whole Henry-based argument rings as unpersuasive both from my biased perspective and a canonical perspective: "In order to be labeled a good father Ted MUST go back to Henry in Kansas, leaving behind every bond he's formed here, despite the fact that he's spent a significant amount of time making this long-distance relationship work really, really well."

Putting Henry aside and going back to my original point above, sending Ted to Kansas requires the audience to imagine up a life for him that has never existed on screen. Sure, we can assume that Ted will form new bonds and rekindle old ones there, but that would exist entirely off screen. Like the story that asks you to ignore the family that's been built right in front of you in favor of the headcanoned one that the characters are separating for, a Kansas ending would ask us to toss aside three seasons worth of family, community, and still developing relationships for... whatever it is we'd personally imagine up post-series. Audiences (by and large) don't WANT their protagonist to end up with [insert OCs here], they want them to stay with the developed cast, whether that's a romance, a friendship, or a family. To me, there's nothing satisfying about imagining Ted in a location the series has never explored with people who don't exist yet except for, as said, an ex, a man who justifiably makes him incredibly uncomfortable, and his child whom he already has a fantastic relationship with in the community where Ted is happy.

There are a lot of other reasons why this ending would be a big disappointment to me, most notably the rejection of untraditional forms of parenting + the message that Ted was always destined to "reset," returning to precisely where he started out, like he's just a hope dispenser who isn't allowed to significantly grow himself. Sure, you can divorce and get better about managing your anxiety... but making a permanent, positive life change? Nah, let's act like this is an episodic show and toss you back to the beginning. I've seen a couple of people compare Ted to Mary Poppins and while a part of my does like that connection, another part cringes at the idea of him playing the role of magical benefactor, his own future happiness deemed insignificant compared to the lives he's already changed. Thanks for the help, Ted! Hope you manage to find some more happiness for yourself back among everything you've spent the series leaving behind. Open your umbrella and let the wind take you; wherever you land and how hard the fall is doesn't matter because the show is over.

So there's a lot going on for me, however, the found family bit is where I'm truly stuck. You're really going to build up this community and Ted's place in it for three seasons, moving him from "wanker" all the way to beloved coach, only to pack him back to Kansas after he's finally carved out a place for himself? Kansas, the place the show has consistently argued has nothing to offer Ted except for the child he hasn't actually lost? Yeah no, sorry, I'm not a fan.

Which doesn't mean I think Ted Lasso is going to become a terrible show if they choose this - again, very likely - ending... but I will personally be pulling a Nick Fury about it.

[tumblingxelian]

I was reading a post by @casscainmainly earlier & my brain went on a tangent regarding the "who is Bruce's favorite" thing. & no this is not gonna be a wholesome "Bat-dad doesn't have favorites" post, this is a "Bruce is too messed up to have the kind of coherent beliefs, feelings and focus for that kind of behavior.

This is not a man with a stable & consistent mood, this is a man who argues with his cowl in the basement while he has company over.

Anyway, I will address this in order of appearances so:

Dick is the "Favorite" in the sense he is in Bruce's eyes a Bruce who managed to cope healthily with his trauma, grow up, move on and be happy as well as a hero.

On some days, this inspires Bruce, and is what makes him feel Dick is better than he could ever be. On other days, this is why Dick could never measure up to him, why he lacks the iron will, the drive, the focus, to be the best he could be.

Jason is or was the "Favorite" in the sense that he was the one Bruce went in on eyes wide open, that's his son, no complexity or ambiguity about it like with Dick or Alfred, they are family.

How well he did is up in the air, but he was trying, which is why Jason dying was basically his parents all over again but now its a parent losing a child not child losing parents. He can't handle it so he consigns Jason to a pre-made tragedy rooted in criminality.

Tim is the "Favorite" in the sense he is the one Bruce sees the most of Bruce in, IE, dark haired, blue eyed, rich boy of Gotham. He is Bruce without the tragedy, & someone Bruce has less preconceptions about.

This is also why Bruce started up mind games and trying to make Tim eventually be Batman but also at other points clearly didn't see Tim as suitable or fitting as well, again, moods.

Stephanie, she is not his kid and was never at risk of being the "Favorite" but she was taught by him. As usual, he projects, he projects Jason, her father, her background & class, her existence as a girl, IE, damsel, in his mind (Writers outfight confirmed this).

He's never once seen her, but there were a few moments that showed they could have had something cool, but it was not to be.

Cassandra is the "Favorite" in the sense that she is what Batman wishes he had. All the skills and training in the world to a superhuman degree, no civilian life, an 'innate' grasp of the morality he grapples with, and the same obsessive drive.

Note, I didn't say Bruce, I said Batman and also that projecting what you want on a person isn't the same as favoritism, nor is it healthy, nor is it even consistent.

Cos Bruce also hates sides of Cass that remind him of himself, IE, he willingness to do what she thinks is right over obediently listen, her self sacrificial tendencies. & he resents sides that aren't like him, the more reckless, less coldly detached parts of her, or her stepping away from his ideal path. In many ways he's jealous.

Damian is not the "Favorite", but he is symbolic of one of Bruce's longest lasting and most passionate love affairs. He is also, like Jason a symbolic representative of family, of what he could have but for the mission.

Damian is also his circumstances, his history, his bloodline, his grandfather, and no matter what he does, he can't escape these things in Bruce's eyes, we are all defined by our families he thinks.

Duke is not the "Favorite", though he does have the least complicated relationship with him due to the era of his arrival and his time becoming a vigilante before they even engaged much.

What's more, Duke was a independent vigilante before he was Bruce's student and well practiced in establishing his own boundaries & definitely has some of that "he matched my freak" energy.

IE, Bruce deciding to become a vigilante at all, Duke holding him before a train to spark his memory, they have zero chill.

So while there'd definitely some projection given his parents, and jealousy/paranoia/admiration with his natural talent and powers. Its a more overtly mentor-like relationship which lessens some of the baggage.

Emphasis on the word, some and no this doesn't make Duke the "Favorite", because if Bruce can't major project, pedestal or pre-judge someone he can't 'bond' with them to the same extent.

Note:

Again, its harder with Bruce, cos its comparing where he was and what he became over a mostly linear period and then reboots happened, amnesia happened, Bruce's persona got shifted, this makes things complicated dammit >< But I hope this was interesting!

[pascalscoffin]

Curvilínea

- Curvaceous - Requested by this lovely, lovely person

Full Pedro Masterlist

Warning: Minors Go Away I Will Kick You In The Forehead. Smut(it’s not crazy descriptive): oral (f receiving); protected p in v (do whatever you want); vaginal fingering; Javi talks about your pussy in the third person (shut up). Curvy/Plus size!reader. Reader uses she/her pronouns, she and Javi are the same age. Reader understands and speaks Spanish a couple times (probably like once). Reader co-owns a bar rather than just being a bartender. Body Shaming warning!! (Please it’s so mean. I had to look it up I couldn’t even fathom something to say. I FEEL DIRTY) I’ll have them in italics or something. Javi being a gentleman. Violence (a couple punches). Mentions of past drug use/abuse. Mentions of ODing. Alcohol mentioned briefly. Physical description of after an OD.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Co-owning a bar with your best friend wasn’t exactly your lifelong dream, though if you thought about it hard enough you didn’t ever have a “lifelong dream”. Sure when you were young you wanted to be a singer, an actor, a doctor, the president, a race car driver, a scientist, and a slew of other professions but the fascination with them never lasted long and you were hopping to the next ideal job faster than your parents could keep up.

But in college you met Lucy and Eloise, who would become two of your best friends. In your junior year, the three of discovered cocaine at a party, you and Eloise were more weekend or bi-weekend doers. Lucy, though, who’d grown up troubled and surrounded by the stuff, fell in head first. Lucy was always talking about the three of you opening up a bar together, naming it The Lucky Horseshoe, and living together in an apartment nearby.

And then that was the dream, you and Eloise stopped doing coke and fought to get and keep Lucy clean, which got more difficult with each relapse, until eventually Lucy went in over her head and you and Eloise found her face down in her own throw up.

After that, you and Eloise stuck true to your promise, saving up money and moving to Lucy’s hometown of Laredo, Texas to open the bar. She always talked about missing Laredo, so with her ashes, given as she didn’t have any family left besides the two of you, you went to Laredo and bought a small bar. Originally you were going to call it Lucy’s Horseshoe. But when you got the sign it had said Lucky Horseshoe, and considering that was what Lucy had wanted to name it, it stuck.

You and Eloise often worked together on Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays since they were your busiest days of the week, one of you typically able to handle it during the week. Of course, it wasn’t perfect, drunk assholes were drunk assholes whether you owned the bar or not, they tended not to care if they were shitfaced enough. Which is why you were trying to politely tell this guy you weren’t interested, but he wasn’t getting the hint.

“Cmon, doll. When you gonna let me take you out, huh?” Don was a regular, every Friday at 8pm he came in and sat in the same stool until close, desperately trying to hit on you. “I don’t date patrons, Don. Besides, you’re drunk.” Don waved his hand at you with a grunt. “‘M tipsy. There’s a difference.” You made a face while you had your back turned, pouring him a glass of water and sitting it down. “Why don’t you drink some water and I’ll call you a cab.”

“Or c’n jus’ take me to your place. Show you a real good time.” You sighed heavily. “What’s the matter? You got a boyfriend or somethin’?” He scoffed, apparently finally agitated with your constant ‘no’s. “No- I don’t have a boyfriend-“ “girlfriend?” “No.” “Husband? Fiancé? Situationship? Anythin’ holdin’ ya down?”

“No, Don, I don’t.” “Then what’s the fuckin’ problem?” Don scoffed and you rubbed your hand against your leg. “… I’m just not interested, Don? Okay? I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, you’re a nice guy.. you’re just not my type.” Don leaned back and looked absolutely scandalized by the idea that you couldn’t possibly be interested in him.

“Seriously?” You opened your mouth but he stood up and cut you off. “I come here every god damn Friday, talk to you, try to be a nice fucking guy and take you out for a good time and I’m not your type?” His jaw clenched. “Y’know- I wouldn’t be so god damn picky if I couldn’t see my whole body when I looked in a fucking mirror. Fat bitch.” He ripped his jacket off his chair and turned around, immediately being cracked in the face, stumbling back and then getting hit again, actually falling out this time as OH’s echoed around.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Javier had decided, since he’s been back home for about a year and he’s now settled back in, that tonight he’d go out and try to dip his toes back into the dating pool. There were no high hopes, really, tonight was mostly just to go out and get a feel for what the pool actually looked like. When Chucho suggested a new bar called Lucky Horseshoe, Javier had been skeptical, thinking maybe it was one of his dad’s old guy bars.

He was surprised to see a nicely decorated bar with great music and even better alcohol lined up behind the bar. He’d looked around, contemplating sitting at a table before deciding he’d sit at the bar, and then there was the choice of sitting on the right of the bar or the left. After two minutes of staring at the bar he decided to sit on your side.

After he sat he took that time to look around and really get a feel for his surroundings, the place was nicely decorated and a look above the alcohol showed him different photos of you, the other bartender, and a third girl, the name Lucy was written in the middle of all the pictures and he imagined the other side of the bar looked the same, a closer look at the backsplash for the alcohol would show the same type of deal, photos of a pretty blonde girl, some photos had you and in the other bartender but most were different photos of just the girl, Lucy he guessed.

He hadn't been sitting there long when you'd strolled up to him, probably about a minute, he ordered a whiskey dry and then you were being called over by a guy who was definitely wasted and probably shouldn't have anymore drinks.

He was having a decent time, chatting up different women or talking about sports he couldn't care much for with guys that sat around him, just getting to know people rather than trying to get to know them. He’d picked up on the conversation a bit, keeping himself tuned in when he picked up on the guy’s persistence.

The guy barely had his insult out before Javier was standing up and walking over. He waited for him to turn around and immediately grabbed his collar with one hand, and hit him square in the nose with the other. He let go of his shirt and watched him stumble before hitting him again, watching him fall to the ground. “Fuck! Dude! I think you broke my fucking nose!” He yelled, blood pouring onto his shirt as he held his face.

“Someone should teach you how to speak to women.” Javier grabbed his collar and yanked him up. “What kind of idle-minded, pathetic Hijo de puta son of a bitch do you have to be to hit on a woman, and then talk shit about her body when she says no?” He growled, turning him and shoving him to the door, taking a step towards him as the kid, Javier could tell now he really was just some kid, probably just turned old enough to drink, way too boyish to go after a woman like you. He stumbled back a bit, holding his nose. “Now get the fuck out of here before I break more than your god damn nose.” He grabbed the guys blazer-gross-off the back of the chair he’d been sitting at and threw it in his face.

His friends, who were smart enough to stay out of the fight, helped their friend out of the bar, yelling that they’d just lost their business, though he figured it wouldn’t be missed very much. Javier found himself following behind them, standing just outside the door as he watched them get into their car and peel away.

He was just about to go back in, make sure you were alright, when he quite literally slammed into you just as you were stumbling out of the bar, holding in your own tears. "Shit- I'm sorry." You stepped away from him and he shook his head. "My fault, I wasn't paying much attention." He looked down at you and cleared his throat. "Are you alright?"

You nodded quickly, npt looking him in the eye as you felt the tears start to well up. You always put. on a brave face when people talked about your body, pretended like it didn't bother you, you'd grown up with the comments so at this point you should be desensitized to them. Yet, still, the comments always bothered you, the backhanded compliments about your clothing from skinny female patrons who had frat boys hanging off their shoulders, "innocently" agreeing with their weekly snatch.

"I'm fine." He didn't seem to believe you, though, his brows furrowing before he gently grabbed your hand. "Come on." He guided you over to pnce of the benches outside the bar and pulled his cigarettes from his pocket. You watched him curiously, waiting for him to say something as he put a cigarette between his lips and extended the pack for you to take one, you hesitantly took one and mumbled a soft thank you.

He didn't say anything, though, just put his pack away and lit the cigarette dangling between his lips before reaching his lighter out to light yours. Now that you were actually near him, silent, with no patrons keeping you from admiring him- he really was handsome. A prominent nose with laugh lines crinkling around his dark brown eyes as the flame of the lighter flickered in front of his face.

You looked away from him, though. Just because he punched a guy for body-shaming you, doesn't mean he's interested, he likely doesn't want you ogling him while he's just trying to smoke his cigarette. "Um... why did I have to... sit here?" You asked after a moment. He looked at you and shrugged. "Figured eventually you'd give up the lie and admit that you're not okay."

You blinked rapidly and looked over at him. "Excuse me?" He sighed and leaned forward a bit. "You're not okay." He shrugged a little. "You don't have to be, but... That guys a prick, alright? Shouldn't listen to him." You frowned a little as you pulled your cigarette from your lips, slowly exhaling the smoke from your lungs before letting out a soft laugh. "I don't even know your name and you expect me to just pour my heart out to you?"

You had to admit it seemed inticing, telling him everything that bothered you, because it felt like he wanted to listen, like he wanted you to tell him every little thing that entered your mind. "Javier Peña." You looked down at the hand thrusted towards you and looked back up at him before slowly taking it and telling him your name. He repeated it a time or two and the way it sounded on his tongue made the bottom of your stomach burn.

Peña... that name sounded familiar... "Is your dad Chucho?" You asked curiously, brows furrowed as he widened his eyes. ".. yes. Chucho is my dad." He chuckled. "Didn't realize he was on a first name basis." "Oh, yeah. Chucho's an angel." You laughed softly and sniffled. "So- you're the famous Javi he goes on and on about."

"God- he doesn't." "He does. You should meet mi hijo Javier, he always says." You laughed softly. "He's very proud of you, he loves you a lot." "Uh-huh. What else does he say about me?" You hummed softly. "Sorry, I've been sworn to secrecy." "Oh, have you?" "Oh, yeah. It was a whole thing." Javier snorted a little and shook his head. "Right. So.. he comes here a lot, then?" You nodded. "Definitely. i mean, you don't have to worry about him he really doesn't drink much, I think he just likes the company."

He nodded and took a drag from his cigarette, choking on it with your next sentence. "i also think he really likes talking you up." He coughed violently and looked at you with furrowed brows. "What?" You nodded. "Mhm. Always talking about what a good man you are, how him and your mama taught you how to properly treat a lady. He's had to tell Don off a time or two before." Huh... well played, Chucho.

The old man sure knew how to formulate a plan- and kill two birds with one stone. He knew Don would be there, knew he would bother you, and of course he knew his son would step in and save the day, and if you and Javier just so happened to hit off, then he could stop worrying so much about him.

"Mm I see." Javier nodded. "Well- thanks for letting him hang around." You shook your head with a laugh. "He's sweet, I was more than happy to keep him around." You said happily. Javier chuckled softly and nodded. "Still. Thank you."

You were quiet for a while, the two of you smoking your cigarettes as you glanced at Javier from the corner of your eye. "... thank you for what you did." Javier looked at you and shook his head. "Don't thank me. No one should be spoken to that way." You chewed on your lip. "I should be used to it now, really. I've heard shit like that so much..." "But it hurts anyway." He said softly, making you nod as you reached up to wipe your eye as tears started to slip again.

"Don't cry, mi diosa curvilínea." my curvaceous goddess. He whispered softly, reaching up to swipe under the opposite eye slowly. You laughed lightly and sniffled as you looked up at him. "Well Chucho was right about you being a real flatterer." Javier chuckled softly and tossed his cigarette to the side before taking yours and tossing it in the same direction. "I'm serious."

His other hand came up to cup both of your cheeks. "You shouldn't let a Pendejo like that make you upset. He's not worth it." He rubbed his thumbs along your cheeks. "A silly little boy who resorts to tantrums when he doesn't get what he wants. You're too much woman for him, anyway, he wouldn't know what to do with una diosa like yourself." You felt your cheeks warm up under his hands, a slow grin stretched across his face. "Now- do you think your friend would let you go for the night?"

"W-what?" Javier chuckled. "Would she let you leave? There's nto very many places open at this time of night but a woman such as yourself should be wined and dined- or at least dined." You laughed lightly. "Who says i wanna be 'wined and dined' by you?" You asked curiously.

Obviously you did, you really did, watching Javier knock out Don had started a stur in your belly and the longer you sat there with him the warmer it got, the tighter it pulled. But still, you couldn't just fall right in line, you didn't want him to think you were some kinda whore, especially not after Chucho's told you all kinds of admirable things about him.

Javier tilted his head a bit, his finger running down your cheek and along your bottom lip. "Do you?" He asked softly, his eyes searching over your face before settling on yours. You swallowed thickly and slowly started to nod. "I-I'll be right back." You stood up quickly and stumbled back towards the door, your cheeks burning as you spun around and went inside quickly, over to Eloise.

"Eloise. You know i love you and I would do the same thing for you in a heartbeat- can i please leave with that beautiful, beautiful man outside." Eloise looked up from the glass she was cleaning and widened her eyes. "You whore!" She gasped before looking around at the nearly empty bar. "I can totally handle this. Go, go, go. You deserve it- and I expect all the details tomorrow morning." You nodded rapidly. "Yes, obviously. Okay i have to go now thank you so much and wish me luck with Chucho's son."

As you were grabbing your coat and practically sprinting from the bar, you heard her screech. THAT'S CHUCHO'S SON?! When you stepped out you saw Javier looking at you with raised brows, chuckling softly. "So.. I'm famous around the bar?" You laughed and shrugged. "I told you, Chucho is very, very proud to have you as a son... as he should be."

Javier chuckled and shook his head a little as he started guiding you to his truck. "Whatever you say, Diosa." He looked at you curiously when you stopped. "What about my car?" You looked over towards the run down beamer and he chuckled. "It'll be fine here, I'll bring you back for it in the morning."

You were a little hesitant, your brain momentarily making you consider the fact that this man was very obviously capable, and that going off alone in a car with a man you didn't know was a very bad decision. But something about his eyes, his pouty lips, made you nod your head and smile at him. "Yeah I-I can just come back for it tomorrow." He nodded and guided you towards his truck, opening the passemger door for you to get in.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

The diner was small, warm enough you had to take off your jacket, but not so warm that you were sweating. Javi was sitting in front of you, his elbows pressed against the table. "So I know you're not from Laredo." You laughed and nodded.

"No. No I'm not." "So, where are you from, then?" He asked, you were waiting on your food so you didn't have to worry about a waiter coming over to take your orders. "Las Vegas." Javier's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "Vegas? Really?" "Oh, yeah." “How was that?” “Not that exciting, honestly.” You laughed softly and he chuckled.

“Yeah I guess all the drunk gamblers get annoying.” “God and it’s worse if you’re a woman with tits.” You rolled your eyes. “I swear, men get drunk and they think every woman with a pulse wants-“ you blinked rapidly as if realizing you were shit talking men- to a man. “Sorry.”

Javier shook his head. “Don’t be. I’m guilty of the same- except usually the women I come onto actually are into me.” He chuckled softly. “Pretty easy to tell when a woman’s not interested- if you have a couple brain cells to rub together.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Think Laredo might be missing a few.” “Probably.” Javier laughed and nodded.

“So- Chucho suggested the bar but… didn’t say anything about it?” He shook his head. “Nope.” He chuckled. “Said it’d be a good scene for me to go to.” You hummed and nodded slowly. “Guess he was right.” He added. You felt your cheeks warm up as you looked up at him, chewing on your lip lightly. “Huh?”

“Good scene.” Javier chuckled and shrugged a little. “Minus the whole having to punch a guy.” He hummed. You opened your mouth and tilted your head. “I’m sorry I’m-I’m a little lost now.”

Javier laughed softly. “I went out because I’ve been back for almost a year and I still haven’t talked to anyone- female or otherwise.” “He thinks you’re lonely.” Javier shrugged. “He’s not wrong.” He sighed. “I have been a little lonely.”

You raised a brow. “Really?” He nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed heavily. “My partner at work is… my only friend. As depressing as that sounds.” You blinked rapidly. “Oh… well I know how you feel. I don’t have many friends. Eloise and Chucho, really.” He nodded. “How come?”

You hummed and shrugged a little. “I guess I don’t… like most people honestly.” You laughed softly. “I can be around other people but eventually my social battery just runs out.” “But you’re a bartender.” You nodded. “You’d be surprised how little people actually pay attention to their bartender.” He hummed and nodded like he understood.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

You sat and talked with him for what must’ve been two hours, not leaving until the waitress came around to give you your bill and send you on your way so she could close up and go home. You’d gotten closer in the time you were there, Javier eventually moving to sit next to you on your side of the booth, playing with the ends of your hair or the collar of your shirt as you talked quietly with eachother.

And now, you and Javier were back at your apartment, both agreeing you’d rather finish your night somewhere his dad wouldn’t hear. Eloise had even texted you to say she’d stay the night with her girlfriend Cheyenne rather than going home when the bar closed.

You knew Javier was attracted to you at this point, hell you were just as attracted to him. But that didn’t stop the anxiety you felt building in your stomach as you sat on your couch, gripping a beer bottle tightly in your hands as Javier looked at you, leaned back against your couch. You weren’t ever really insecure about your size, but every once in a while the harsh words would get to you and you’d be left floundering for the confidence that once radiated.

“Come here, Diosa.” He said softly, holding his hand out to you. “You’re so far away. Me siento solo aquí.” I’m lonely over here. You felt your cheeks warm up and hesitated before grabbing his hand and sliding closer to him on the couch. “Are you… sure you-” “don’t be silly.” Javier chuckled softly and leaned forward to set his beer down before grabbing yours and sitting it down also.

“I’m not a little boy, Hermosa.” He turned to you and brought his knee up onto the couch so he could look at you head on. “You’re all woman.” He hummed happily and licked his lips slowly. “And I don’t shy away from a woman like you.” He kissed your cheek lightly, and then your neck. “Just more to love, hold, kiss.” He mumbled softly before bumping his nose against yours. “But if you’re not up to it we don’t have to do anything. Just sit here and talk.”

You looked up into his eyes and blinked rapidly, chewing on your bottom lip before you leaned in and kissed him quickly. He hummed, happily kissing you back as one hand cupped your cheek and the other curled around your back and pulled you closer to him.

It wasn’t long before you were laid back on your bed, looking up at Javier in nothing but your bra and panties as he ran his eyes over you. You felt yourself getting shy again, shifting and moving your hands to cover your stomach. Javier was quick to grab your wrists, though, gently tugging your hands above your head. “Don’t.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your neck before making his way down, stopping briefly to press kisses and slide his tongue along your stretch marks, making you shift and your face and neck heat up.

“Eres hermosa, Diosa, no necesitas cubrirte. Demasiado hermosa para eso.” You are beautiful, Diosa, you don't need to cover yourself. Too beautiful for that. He whispered as he got between your legs, looking up towards you as he slid your panties off. You swallowed thickly and mumbled a shy thank you as he tugged your panties off and tossed them to the side, groaning at the sight of you, wet and pretty and waiting. “Been wondering all night what she looked like- tasted like. Gonna let me taste, Diosa?” He looked up at you again, brown eyes big and pleading and how could you say no to that?

You gave him a rapid nod, shifting as you spread your legs further. “Please.” You whimpered softly, chewing on your lip as he grinned before he was diving down. He started with gentle kisses pressed to your labia before spreading them and pressing a kiss to your clit. Your eyelids fluttered and your head fell back as you moaned softly.

You’d been with quite a few men, but it had been a while so you were feeling a little desperate. When his tongue reached out and slid through you, you gasped and moaned a little louder, tangling your fingers in his hair as he started massaging your clit with his tongue, moaning against you as his eyes closed.

He let go of your labia so they closed around his mouth as he sucked on your clit, one of his hands traveling down to prod lightly at your hole before guiding two of his fingers into you slowly. Your back arched and your grip on his hair tightened as you shuddered and moaned, pressing down on his fingers. “Javi..” you chewed on your lip as he started fucking you steadily with his fingers, his other hand coming up to play with your breast and twist your nipple.

He hummed against you, massaging your clit as he sucked on it, his hips pressing into the mattress as he started moaning. “Joder, qué bien sabes, Diosa. Tomando mis dedos tan bien, también.” Fuck, you taste so good, Diosa. Taking my fingers so well, too. He pulled away to speak, panting heavily as he pushed a third finger into you, licking his lips. You opened your mouth to speak but were cut off with a loud moan when he dove back in, curling his fingers directly into your gspot this time, massaging the bundle of nerves as he continued licking and sucking on your clit.

“Fuck- Javi- Javi please.” You whimpered, tugging on his hair as you looked down at him, lip trembling. Javi hummed against you and pulled away again. “Please what, sweetheart? Hm?” He asked softly, pressing a kiss to your thigh as he continued fucking you with his fingers.

“Necesito que me folles, Javi. Quiero tanto que me folles...” I need you to fuck me, Javi. I want you to fuck me so bad... you begged him, whimpering softly. “Please.”

Javi hummed softly and kissed your cheek gently. “You’re so pretty when you’re begging.” He teased, sliding up to kiss you softly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and letting you taste yourself, which wasn’t something you cared much for in the past, but when it mixed with Javi’s saliva it had you trembling.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

You weren’t sure how long you’d been going at this point, but the sun was coming up and you’d only stopped once for about ten minutes to get water and catch your breath. You didn’t think it was possible for you to cum anymore at this point but you could feel that familiar coil building up again. You’d lost count of how many times you’d cum.

“J-Javi-“ your voice was hoarse, wrecked and scratchy from screaming his name for so long. Now, though, he was pushing into you ever so gently, grinding his hips at the end of every thrust. “What, Diosa? Gonna cum again? Hm?” He purred softly, pressing harder into you. “Can feel it. She’s squeezing me so hard, baby. Just begging me to stay right here so she can drench me so good again.” He nuzzled your neck, his own voice gruff and raw as he moaned.

You were even more surprised with Javier’s ability to cum so much, not nearly as much as you but definitely more than you’d expect a man to be able to do in a matter of hours. As soon as his hand reached down, pressing just enough into your overly sensitive clit to have you screaming his name and cumming hard around him, your legs shaking and tightening around him as your nails dug into his sweaty back.

Javier groaned and started fucking into you more frantically, hands gripping your hips tightly as he groaned and huffed into your neck, offering a few more sloppy thrusts before spilling into the third condom he’s worn since you started, groaning weakly into your neck as his muscles trembled, breathing heavily.

You laid there for a moment, catching your breath before Javier slowly slid out and fell next to you. He panted heavily and slid the condom off, tossing it into your trashcan with the others. “… holy shit.” You whispered softly, swallowing thickly as Javier chuckled and pulled you close.

“We’ll get up soon to clean up and shower. Pretty sure neither of us can walk right now.” “I’d fucking say. How the hell did you do that?” You looked at him wide eyed as he furrowed his brows curiously. “What do you mean?” “Javi- you came like four times- we used three condoms.” Javier shrugged a little. “Happens when you have a sexy ass girl underneath you.”

Your cheeks warmed up and you shook your head shyly as he gripped your ass and kissed your neck. “Take a little nap. I’ll wake you up soon.” He promised. “This is my house.” “Yeah, well, I’m a cop and I’ll arrest you.” “You can’t arrest me for not taking a nap.” “Failure to cooperate with law enforcement is against the law.” You huffed and pushed his face away before laying your head on his chest. “I should thank Chucho when I get home later.” You heard him mumble before the sleep took over your mind, leaving you unable to respond.

You’d have to thank him yourself, maybe bake him some of those cookies he liked so much. And then you’ll shame him for not warning you that his son was that damn charismatic. Or telling you how to contact him sooner.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

I hope you enjoyed this! Been working a lot lately but I was finally able to finish it!

[aroeddiediaz]

A confession

If there’s one thing Eddie can give credit to the Catholics for, it’s that they build beautiful churches. Dim light streams through the stained glass windows, making the images of the Virgin Mary and Jesus glow. His shoes click on the glossy marble floor as he passes rows of empty pews. 

He enters the confessional and sits. The priest’s voice comes through the grate in the wall. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

“Amen.” Eddie’s mouth is dry. He clears his throat and speaks, voice measured, but with a thread of uncertainty in it. “Bless me father, for I have sinned.”

“It’s been, oh, 18 or so years since my last confession. I haven’t really kept track of when I stopped doing this. Uh, I’m not really sure where to start.”

“That’s quite all right,” the priest says. “Start with what’s troubling you most.”

“I fucked up- sorry, messed up. I messed up badly, and now my son won’t speak to me. It’s been months and we still haven’t been able to have a real conversation.”

The priest said “I see. Would you mind telling me my details of what happened “

“I cheated on my girlfriend. Well, sort of to be honest, it wasn’t exactly cheating. We never did anything. The thing is, she looked exactly like my late wife. Shannon. I knew it was messed up from the beginning, but I felt like it was fate or something. Like it was a chance for a do-over. My first marriage was rough. We married young, mostly because I got her pregnant. And then I joined the military. I thought I was supporting her, but to be honest, I was just running away. I wasn’t scared of the baby, I think. 

What I was scared of was becoming like my parents. My dad, he was an engineer, and he often had to travel. And that put a strain on his marriage with my mom. They tried to keep it from me, but I would hear them having whispered arguments in the kitchen at night when I was asleep or over the phone. And my mom wasn’t happy, because she needed him, and he wasn’t there. So a part of me was afraid. Afraid of that even if I tried, I wouldn’t be able to be better than my dad. So instead, I found a nobler  reason to run.

The thing is though, I don’t know if we would’ve been able to have that ideal relationship, the one I used to dream about seeing when I was a little boy. Shannon and I had our fights. Even after I came back from the war, I couldn’t be emotionally available to her, and she couldn’t handle the burdens that I placed on her, so she left me. I was drowning on my own before I moved to LA. Then I found support. And then she came back. I thought that I could fix things. Make sure she wouldn’t want to leave me again. But as much as I cared about her, I think maybe what I loved the most was the idea of our relationship. 

She asked me for a divorce, Two days after that, she died. I guess no matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t get past that. I thought I was doing things right. I thought I was being enough. But there was something that I was missing.

I tried to fix it, in my other relationships. I thought that the problem was the burdens that we went through when we were still young and we made mistakes. So when I dated Ana, I tried to be the perfect partner. Then I got shot and she ended up helping to nurse me back to health. and I think I realized during that time that, despite all the emotional labor, each of us had put into that relationship, it never felt like a relationship that should be long-term. It felt like we were both acting the parts of a play. I just wish that I broke it off sooner.

So then I thought maybe the issue was the expectations I placed on the relationship. I went into my relationship with Ana thinking that I needed to find a replacement for Shannon. I needed a new wife and a mother for Christopher. When I dated Marisol, I tried to let go of those expectations and just do things naturally. But I think I was convincing myself that if I waited long enough, those feelings would eventually emerge. But they never did. I just ended up feeling guilty here and guiltier overtime because we were dating and we were getting to know each other better, but my heart wasn’t really in it. And that’s when I saw Kim.

I shouldn’t have pursued her. But I think that a part of me hoped that if I could get closure from someone who looks so much like her, that I would be able to fix whatever was broken inside of me,whatever it was that wouldn’t let me move on. I was certain by that point that whatever my feelings for Shannon were, however complicated they were, that was the closest thing to true love that I had ever experienced. And I hope that if I confronted them with someone who could help me move on, then I would finally get over this weird mental block I had with Marisol, or someone else.

It was wrong. I think I knew that the whole time. But I didn’t stop until my best friend found out what was happening and confronted me. I told Kim everything. Well, I didn’t tell her about Marisol. But I thought that would’ve been the end of it.

Kim came back though. She actually tried to dress up like Shannon, she cut her hair to look similar and she changed her clothing. And she got me to do this role-play where I could bear out my grievances, and when I did, I thought for a moment that maybe this was it. I could explain to her why her breaking my heart hurt so much and how she had changed something inside of me.

Of course, that’s when Christopher and Marisol walked in. Marisol broke up with me of course, and Chris wouldn’t speak to me. He even got his grandparents to come pick him up and take him back to their home in El Paso. And he hasn’t come back yet.

I thought Kim would help me fix me, or help me find clarity. But I’m more confused now than ever.

I think now, that as much as I liked, and admired, and enjoyed being around Shannon, that maybe, I was never actually in love with her. I think maybe I can’t. I know what love is. I love my son. I love my friends. I even love my parents, even though I’m more frustrated with them now than ever. I think the love I have for Shannon is the kind of love that I would feel for anyone who has gone through so much struggle with me, but not the kind that a husband should have for his wife.”

The priest is silent for a long moment. “You have been through a lot, it is not a surprise that you are confused. I think that you have an idea in your head of how a relationship should look. But that is not what is necessary.“

Eddie says, “I know that a marriage doesn’t have to be what the church considers right. I know that it doesn’t have to be a man and a woman and two kids and a picket fence. But I have seen how happy my friend and her wife are. I have seen how happy my coworker has been with his wife who was previously in an abusive relationship, and I have seen my captain and his wife have found new love despite both of their spouses' untimely deaths. I’ve seen how my best friend looks when he’s in love, when he’s heartbroken. What does it say about me that I don’t think I’ll ever feel those feelings? What does it say about me that I destroyed my bond with my son and hurt him so badly in pursuit of it?“

The grate between their booths in the confessional obscures the priest’s face, but when he glances through he can see a gentle smile. “It means that you are different from them. And that is not a bad thing. It does not mean that you are broken, or that you are wrong. Maybe you won’t fall in love. Maybe you will never find what kind of relationship you have wished for. But that does not mean that you won’t have fulfillment. You love your job, right? You love your son, and your friends. Maybe others have told you that you need more in your life to be truly happy, but I think that as long as you’re being truly honest with yourself, that is what matters.”

Eddie isn’t sure he can just accept that, not yet. Not when the distance between him and Chris is still a gaping wound. Still, it’s nice to hear from someone who should be condemning him for his failures that he can fix things. “Thank you, Father.”

[echo-goes-mmm]

Silas and Wren #8

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: dissociation, panic attack, implied past non-con, past conditioning

Note: Felix (Silas’s brother) uses they/them pronouns and masculine family terms

Silas paced up and down the room. 

“You think they’ll read the letter?” he asked out loud.

“They’re your brother,” said Wren, “I’m sure they will.”

Silas sighed. “I just don’t know why Felix didn’t tell me. It’s not like my parents are the type to arrange the marriage, so they had plenty of time.”

He sank into an armchair. “I mean, I don’t expect to be told everything. But still.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Maybe I'm just making a mistake. I just know I’m going to worry about this for weeks like I always do.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mail is so slow,” He stared up at the ceiling. “If only I could just get an explanation just like that,” he snapped, “instantly, y’know?”

There was a thud, and the sound of heavy breathing.

“Wren?” he glanced over.

Wren was on his knees, forehead pressed into the wood, bent in a bow. He could hear him crying.

“Wren?” he knelt by his trembling body. “What’s wrong?” He reached for him, but Wren flinched and sobbed.

“I’m sorry, Master!” he cried, “Please, don’t!” Silas stared at him, at a loss.

“It’s me,” he said, “It’s just me, Wren. I- I’m not going to hurt you.” He put his hand over Wren’s. Wren shuddered, but didn’t move away. He wept, and Silas didn’t know what to do. 

“Could you sit up? Please?”

Wren pushed himself up from the floor. His arms shook and he was flushed with tears. His eyes were unfocused, and they shifted back and forth.

“Wren?”

He whimpered, shaking his head. “Please, don’t.” 

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

Wren looked back to the floor. “You’re going to punish me, Master. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Y-you’re not?”

“No, I- Wren you didn’t do anything wrong!” He cupped Wren’s cheek, tilting his face upwards. “It’s me, Silas. I’m not going to hurt you, Wren.”

Wren’s eyes searched his face, and recognition sparked in his expression. He wrapped his arms around himself. “I don’t- I don’t understand. What- what’s happening?”

Silas hesitated before placing his hands on Wren’s shoulders. Wren tipped towards him, into his chest. 

“I don’t know,” said Silas, wrapping his arms around him. “We were just talking. Or, I was just talking. And then you were just… on the floor.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I must have freaked you out or something.” He gave him a little squeeze, and Wren sighed into him. 

“I dunno,” he said, after a moment. “There was this sound and I wasn’t Wren anymore. And I thought- I thought you were someone else.”

A sound. The snapping?

“Did one of your old Masters snap at you?” Wren pulled away, looking up at him.

“How did you know that?” he asked, hurt written all over his face. “I never told you about him.”

“I guessed. I snapped my fingers right before you… well, before. I’m sorry Wren.”

“It’s not your fault, Master.”

“Do- do you want to talk about it?” Silas wasn’t well practiced at being a friend, but Wren had listened plenty to his complaining.

“I’d rather not, Master.”

“Okay,” he said, “and… you don’t have to call me that. I know I… bought you but it’s really okay.”

Wren bit his lip. “You’re the best Master I’ve ever had. It’s different. Respectful.”

Silas had never really been respected before, but the novelty seemed so far away. Here he was, blabbering on about simple family drama, while Wren had to deal with so much worse.

They sat shoulder-to-shoulder on the floor in silence. Wren laid his head on Silas’s shoulder.

___________________

Silas was so good to him. Fantastic, really. It was past time Wren was good back. It wouldn’t even be bad like he thought that first week. Silas was too sweet and awkward to be brutal in bed. 

In another life, they could have been dating. Maybe they’d even end up husbands. Silas was compassionate, generous, empathetic, and handsome. Even when Wren wasn't ideal, he was understanding. He was so kind during the nightmare and the 'snapping incident'.

That, and everything else, was exactly what Wren would look for in a partner if he had the option.

Unfortunately a silly little crush didn’t make reality, and slaves didn’t marry, or get to love. Especially not their masters. But sex was a good replacement, right? He was pretty sure happy couples had nice sex. 

He’d be able to pretend Silas loved him back, at least for a little while.

___________________

It wasn’t going well. Ordinarily he didn’t have to seduce his way into his master’s bed. Sometimes sex happened as soon as they brought him home.

Wren tried really hard to do every romantic gesture he’d ever heard of to get Silas interested, that it was okay to have sex with him, but it wasn’t working. Silas just didn’t understand hints. 

He trimmed some roses (from the back of the bush, so it wouldn’t mess it up) and put them in a vase on Master’s coffee table. 

They had dinner together (or rather he ate and then Silas drank from him) under candlelight Wren had strategically lit. 

He gave Silas bites of his food and desserts. Apparently vampires could eat small amounts of human food (too much could upset their stomachs), and Silas enjoyed a variety of things .

Wren sat close to him during games, and even closer at reading lessons.

None of it worked. Sure, Silas blushed when Wren curled up on the couch next to him, but that was a far cry from seeing him blush from a good blowjob. 

Maybe Wren was just ugly. He couldn’t compare to vampire beauty. Master had a few fashion magazines, and the vampire models in them were prettier compared to humans, and especially compared to him. 

His hair was a nice color; he could do worse than sort-of red. But his eyes were plain brown. Not even a gorgeous dark, or especially golden. 

He’d always just been ‘good enough’. Never expensive, never cheap. Perfectly middle.

Wren had always been fine with that, before. It kept him safe. A high price tag came with high expectations, and a low price tag meant brothels. Objectively worse than serving one master at a time.

Silas deserved better and prettier. But Wren was still damn good at his job. He just needed to give Silas a bigger hint. Something that screamed 'please have sex with me', and hopefully everything would work out.

taglist: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @secretwhumplair @freefallingup13 @mylovelyme @whumpzone @paintedpigeon1 @haro-whumps @whumpthisway @fanastyfinder @extemporary-whump @susiequaz12 @keepingwhumpwiththekardashians @the-cyrulik